Book 34 - Children of Darkness
by GailDunn2
Summary: WARNING: MAY CONTAIN ADULT THEMES AND SITUATIONS. Vincent is looking to recruit the best and brightest of his children, but at what cost? The God Squad's members have their secrets, some more shocking than others. Castiel and Gail's future together is in jeopardy, as is the future of humanity.
1. The Politics of Dancing

Chapter 1 - The Politics of Dancing

It was a good thing that Cas wasn't a human, because he was mentally and physically exhausted as it was. If he'd been human and had needed food and sleep to survive, he would surely have been dead by now. All he had done when he had first gotten back was pace around the bunker, full of nervous energy. Then he would hit the gym in the training room, and the Winchesters would look on, bemused, as their friend would heft weights. He would add more and more weight, until he was pressing impossibly high numbers. Well, impossible for them, that was. But it was mainly for show, of course. Angels' physiques didn't change like that. Whatever Cas had done a while back to make himself so built had been achieved solely by Godly means. But it made him feel better to do it, anyway. Sometimes, the brothers would work out alongside him, keeping him company. When the showdown came, it was likely going to be an all hands-on deck type of situation, and they all wanted to be ready.

Cas would ask Bobby or Liz to babysit Angela at times, and then Frank and Jody would join them. Predictably enough, both of them had gone crazy at first, when Cas had gotten back from the compound and told them what was going on there. How could he have just taken off, and left Gail and Rob there? Cas had explained the situation to them, and they had been somewhat mollified. Then he had brought them over to the bunker and asked Bobby to come down and join them, for the mother of all brainstorming sessions.

"Does such technology exist?" Cas had asked Sam, the very first thing. "Or is he bluffing?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if it did," Sam mused. "I'll make a few calls."

So Sam had, and his law enforcement contacts had hemmed and hawed, but they had eventually confirmed that the technology not only existed, but it could very well already be in use. The innovations in the field seemed to be coming mainly from Europe these days. France and England, in particular, had several experts in the area of subdermal implants, Sam told the group.

"Sub-who whats?" Bobby asked the younger Winchester.

"Planting computer chips under the skin," Sam simplified for him.

"Why would you even DO that?" Frank said with distaste.

"It can have a lot of practical applications, Frank," Sam told him. "People can access security buildings by just showing their hands to the control panel, or pay for goods and services directly, without worrying about carrying cash, or credit cards."

"Which would cut down on muggings, and those types of crimes," Jody remarked.

"Yeah, until some yahoos decide to start grabbing people and cuttin' those chips out of 'em," Bobby said bluntly. Everyone looked at him, startled. "Oh, like you weren't all thinking about it," he added irascibly.

That comment had acted on Cas like a slap in the face. Why hadn't he thought of that? But then, his heart sank. It didn't really matter. That was the same problem they'd had with the bracelets. Even if they could somehow carve all those kids up like pumpkins and get the chips out of them, there was no way that they could do all of that before Vincent commanded the computer to detonate the chips.

"My contact said he's never heard of RFID being used for explosives, but that doesn't mean that it couldn't be," Sam went on. He looked at Bobby. "RFID is 'radio frequency identification'. That's what the technology is supposed to be used for. But he also told me that if they were working on a munitions detonation aspect, he wouldn't be able to tell me. So, I'm gonna call it: Not only do I think the technology is feasible, I think it's being worked on in the U.S. right now."

Dean frowned. "And, that bastard Benoit is from France. He must have brought the technology over from there. Terrific."

"I don't know if that'll catch on here, though," Jody said, frowning. "It's fraught with problems. Not only because of what Bobby said, but I know that people worry about Big Brother watching them, or they're afraid of being hacked."

"Hacked?" Cas said, puzzled. He was still trying to visualize methods to employ that might separate those computer chips from the victims, including a momentary mental image of amputation.

"Yeah, Cas. Computer hacking," Jody said to him, somewhat irritably.

"Could YOU do something like that?" Frank said eagerly to Sam. "Hack that bastard's system?"

Sam shook his head. "No. No way. I wouldn't know the first thing about it, Frank. Even if we hired a computer expert, there's no precedent for a matrix like that."

"Dammit, Sam, wouldja quit throwing around twenty-dollar college words and just tell us what the hell we're supposed to DO, here?!" Bobby exclaimed.

"Bobby, if I knew that, we'd be doing it!" Sam said, raising his voice.

"OK, settle down, everybody," Frank said sternly. Now, everyone looked at him. "I know," Frank said. "Everybody's expecting me to go to pieces. But I'm not going to. I just want to march over there with Cas, dig those computer thingies out of their arms, and shove them up Vincent's ass. But we can't afford to lose our cool, here. Too many lives are at stake. What kind of people would we be if we just saved Rob and Gail, and let all those other ones die? That's not what we're all about."

Jody put her arms around Frank and kissed him. "And that, right there, is why I love you," she told him.

"I hate to say this, but maybe we should just call in the authorities," Bobby said reluctantly.

"No way, Bobby. Not gonna happen," Dean said, shaking his head vigorously.

"Normally, I'd agree with you; but, let's face it, they have the firepower and the expertise to deal with these kinds of situations," Bobby persisted.

"Yeah, until you get something like Waco," Sam said grimly.

"What is that?" Cas asked him.

Sam sighed. "In the early 1990s, there was a cult called the Branch Davidians, led by a man named David Koresh. They were holed up in a compound near Waco, Texas, with all kinds of law enforcement personnel trying to figure out how to get them out. The siege lasted nearly two months, and resulted in a deadly fire that killed all 76 occupants."

"Well, they obviously screwed up," Dean said, frowning. "Why the hell did they wait so long before doing something?"

"That's not how it happened, Dean," Jody informed them. "When I was in the Academy, we talked extensively about Waco. The instructors used it as a cautionary tale." She sighed. "The authorities originally tried to raid the place, armed with a catalogue of charges. Some of the charges probably had validity, too, but they tried to force the issue. The Davidians were heavily armed, and a fierce gun battle later, there were 10 dead people, on both sides. So then, they tried to outwait them. A negotiation team tried to talk to Koresh, because they viewed it as a hostage situation. But Koresh claimed that everyone was there of their own free will. By then, the so-called 'good guys' were split into factions: those who wanted to negotiate a peaceful resolution, and those who wanted to go in there with guns blazing. Some genius decided to use sleep deprivation tactics, like blasting really loud music and jet engine sounds, to try to force them out."

"Yeah. Great plan. Take some guy who's unstable to begin with, try to drive him crazy, and then act surprised when he does something irrational," Bobby growled.

Jody was nodding. "Then, when that didn't work, they cut their water and power. Still nothing. By that point, there were a lot of people who were saying the situation was being handled the wrong way, but nobody seemed to have any viable alternatives, so they pushed on. They released tear gas, but the people were either deep inside the compound, or they had gas masks. Koresh might have been unstable, but he wasn't stupid. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

"What happened next?" Cas asked her in a quiet voice.

"Suddenly, three fires broke out and engulfed the compound," Jody replied. "Three separate fires, originating from different spots."

"Who set the fires? Koresh?" Dean asked. "Or the authorities?"

Jody shrugged. "No one really knows. But that doesn't really matter to the people who died in them, does it? Men, women and children, too." There was silence among the group for a moment. "I vote with Dean," Jody went on. "No authorities."

That had been a week ago, their so-called brainstorming session, Cas thought as he paced the floor of the bunker angrily. If you could call it that. They hadn't been able to come up with one viable idea. Not even one.

Now, they had fallen into a routine, of sorts. Frank and Jody and little Angela had moved into the bunker for the time being, using the place as a sort of headquarters. Cas and Bobby and some of the other Angels had helped them transport some belongings and the baby's things back and forth. Jody'd said their house was too quiet and eerie without Rob in it, and they all needed to be together, to keep brainstorming until they came up with The Idea. It was just a matter of time. With all of the brains they had between them, all of the experience they'd all had defeating monsters, human or otherwise, and Cas's powers, they were bound to come up with the solution.

Every day the humans would wake up and make coffee and breakfast, and someone would feed and change Angela. Cas would usually join them, just to be around family, and usually Bobby would, too. At first, Cas had usually just hung around the bunker all night, waiting for everyone to rise. He had tried working out in the gym at night, but Dean had told him that the clanking of the weights was too loud, so now when he felt the need, Cas would go up to Heaven and use one of the Academy rooms. Ethan, Riley, Kevin and Efram got wind that he had been doing that, and eventually, Cas had a whole host of Angels in there with him, working out together. His friends recognized that he needed something to occupy himself, so they started asking him about different weapons and fight techniques, and before he even realized what was happening, Cas was suddenly teaching again.

As the days passed, different Angels rotated in and out. Ethan brought Karen, and Cas very gently showed Ethan's wife a few of the basic self-defense techniques he had shown Gail. Then Linda, Henri and Paul had shown up, and Cas had paired Linda and Henri up, of course. His lips had even twitched when he had cautioned Linda to take it easy on poor Henri, and that had done Cas's friends' hearts good, because that was the closest he'd come to smiling ever since this whole ordeal had begun.

Then, as Cas walked away to assist some other pairs of Angels, he put a foot wrong at the edge of the mat and stumbled, and Kevin and Paul had rushed to grab him by the arms, keeping him on his feet. "Watch that first step..." Kevin and Linda said at the same time. "It's a doozy," Cas responded softly, and then he looked at the mother and son in surprise. "You know that movie?" Cas asked them.

"Everybody knows that movie, Cas," Linda told him.

Cas remembered watching it with Gail one night on TV. She had assured him that he was going to love the film, and as usual, she had been right. Imagine being given the chance to spend the day with your loved one, over and over again, working on redemption until you got it just right. The concept was wonderful. Absolutely enchanting. Oh, the things that Cas could do with an opportunity like that.

This was starting to feel like that, but not in a good way. Even though he knew that this time was different from the time that Lucifer had had Gail and she hadn't known who she was, aspects of it still felt the same. The constant ache of being apart from her was almost too much for him to bear, regardless of the circumstances. How did people who had lost their spouses for good ever get through the day? How could they stand it? Sometimes Cas wished that he didn't have a vessel, because his chest and stomach hurt every moment of every day, and he found it hard to breathe. He saw Gail everywhere he went. He saw her in her usual chair in the bunker, smiling at him and reaching for his hand. Throwing something Dean's way when their friend teased her. Cooking alongside Sam in the kitchen, leaning down to kiss Cas on the cheek as she set the table. When Cas went into the weapons room to work out, he saw Gail sitting perched on a chair, pairing their friends and family up to spar together, saying she was actually cut out for a supervisory role. Catching Cas's eye, and smiling. Cas had tried going to their house on Earth, but all he could see there was Gail's face when everyone had been opening their presents at Christmas. How happy she had been to see everyone so happy. Then she would snuggle against Cas on the couch and tell him how glad she was that he had received her favourite cologne on him as a gift, because she was just going to follow him around all day and smell him. And Cas couldn't go in their bedroom, of course, because then Ralph would look at him with reproach, accusing Cas of being a poor husband because he couldn't seem to stop his wife from being victimized. And it was true. Cas was God, yet he couldn't seem to do the most important job he had, which was to keep Gail safe.

Yet even as he was agonizing over these things, Cas struggled to remind himself that this situation was different. At least he knew exactly where Gail was, this time. Vincent had said that as long as Cas stayed away from there, he wouldn't relocate the compound. And so far, he had been true to his word. Cas wasn't supposed to do it, but he popped over there several times a day anyway, just to be sure. He had the coordinates for the yard, so he would wink himself over there and just stand looking at the building for a while. He kept himself invisible, of course, but he didn't dare push it any further, just in case. He kept hoping that maybe she would come outside again, just so he could catch a glimpse of her. But she never did. Cas imagined that Vincent probably know he was there, and didn't want to take any chances by letting her out. Besides, if he looked at it from Vincent's point of view, this made Cas's suffering all that much more acute. So close, and yet so far.

This time things were different, because Gail knew who she was, and she knew what she was doing. Well, presumably she did, anyway. She'd told Cas before he'd been forced to leave that she was going to cooperate as much as she was able, until she was in a position to circumvent Vincent's plans. Either that, or until such time as Cas and the others came up with a way to rescue all of the people in the compound without any loss of life.

But Cas was letting her down again on that score, wasn't he? None of them had been able to figure out one single way to deliver them all from their plight. Cas murmured his thanks to Kevin and Paul now, and then he moved away from them to walk among the other Angels.

Paul stared after Cas for a moment. He too felt like he was letting Gail down. Surely with Paul's background, he should be able to come up with something. He had tried putting himself in Vincent's place. It wasn't all that long ago that Paul had been a bad guy himself. OK, well, bad-guy-adjacent, maybe. He'd blown himself up on Earth before he'd had the chance to decide how bad he was actually gonna be. And thank God he had; otherwise, he might not be here right now. He and Henri had talked a lot about that during their nightly bull sessions. How much of what happened in their lives had been by design, and how much was freedom of choice?

Paul had been wracking his brains. What was Vincent's endgame? Apparently, he was trying to winnow out the best of his offspring from the others, and form an army of sorts. For what purpose, none of them really had any clue. But the fact that Vincent seemed to consider the less talented ones expendable worried Paul greatly. It worried him a lot.

"Come on, Paul," Ethan said. "Quit daydreaming. Your knife work needs...well, work."

"Keep your pants on, Baretta," Paul quipped.

"Hey, if you can't do the time, then don't do the crime," Ethan retorted, and the two men laughed together. They were easier with each other now, but when they'd first come upon each other in Heaven, there had definitely been some tension between them. Ethan hadn't forgotten that Paul had been in Lucifer's camp when they'd first made his acquaintance. But Cas vouched for Paul, Ethan knew, and he also knew that the newly reminted Angel had helped Cas and Gail out of a couple of scrapes already in the short time he'd been here, so that was good enough for Ethan.

For his part, Paul had also been leery of Ethan for a bit. Everything about Ethan screamed "The Man" to Paul. He was white, he wore his hair short, and he acted like he was fresh out of the Police Academy. Which in a way, Paul supposed he was. He knew now that Ethan had been shot in the line of duty when he'd been just a rookie. But Cas vouched for Ethan, and Paul admitted to himself that his respect for Castiel had grown to the point that that was good enough for Paul. So they were still feeling their way, but it appeared as though Ethan and Paul were going to be all right.

But now, as the two men prepared to face off, it was Ethan's attention that wandered. As Cas meandered throughout the room, Ethan noticed that Pamela was circling him, like a shark. What was this, now?

As Ethan continued to watch Pamela, she touched Cas lightly on the arm. "Would you mind showing me the choke hold maneuver again?" Pamela asked Cas. "I'm a little rusty on that one. I teach so many females, and most of them are shorter than me. Plus, they're not as strong as you are. I need somebody who will give me a real challenge."

Pamela was trying not to gape at Cas as she looked at him now. He'd unconsciously rolled up the sleeves of his shirt in the way that Gail liked, and even though Pamela could only see Cas's bare forearms, she could tell that he had bulked up quite a bit recently. Have mercy.

Pamela had tried to forget about her attraction to Cas, and she had fooled herself into thinking that she had succeeded. He was hardly ever around, anyway. He and that little witch with a b he was married to spent the vast majority of their time on Earth, anyway. The two of them were almost never apart. But in the weird way that these things sometimes go, Cas's near-constant absence from Heaven and obvious devotion to his wife had only served to inflame Pamela's infatuation for him even more. And now he was back, stalking around the gym like a sleek and sexy tiger, looking tanned and muscular. Pamela couldn't take it anymore. She needed to feel his hands on her and his body on top of hers, even for just a moment. Then the memory would be fresh, the next time she thought about him at night. The way she thought about him every night.

"I'll do it," Riley offered quickly, stepping forward. Like Ethan, he'd been eyeing Pamela, too. Riley remembered back when they'd opened the original Academy, Pamela had been all over Cas. He'd had to ask Riley to pair up with her, because every time Cas had tried to train with Pamela, there had been something about her demeanour that had made Cas uncomfortable. She had eventually made an overt advance towards him, on that fateful day that Cas had killed her brother Scott, when Scott had made advances towards Gail. The couple had found out later that Patricia had exhorted the brother and sister to try and tempt Cas and Gail into adultery, or at least, that was the story that Pamela had given. Patricia had had a different version, of course, but no one had believed her, because everybody knew that Patricia was batcrap crazy. Cas had kept Pamela on at the Academies because she was a good instructor, and he needed all the female instructors he could get. Also, she had behaved herself this entire time. Cas had had several of the Angels report back to him about Pamela, and they said that she had been a complete professional.

So, Cas held up his hand now. "No, it's all right, Riley," he said absently. "I'll do it."

Riley stood down, but he stayed close, casting dubious glances at Pamela. "It's good to see you, my Lord," Pamela said to Cas, smiling pleasantly. "We don't get the pleasure of your company very often."

"I'm a busy man, these days," he replied.

The two of them began to circle each other on the mat. "Not too busy to maintain your tan, though, I see," Pamela remarked.

Riley frowned, but Cas kept his expression neutral. "I enjoy the sunshine," he commented. "There's just something about - " Suddenly, he lunged at Pamela, and grabbed her from behind in a chokehold. He had her head in the crook of his arm, and his other hand was on the top of her head, as it would be as if he were about to twist, breaking her neck.

Pamela's hands automatically flew up, grabbing his arm. She squeezed his bicep, intending to use a pressure point in the crook of his arm or on his wrist, but she lingered for a moment. She just couldn't help herself. His arms were so big now, and his muscles were rock-hard. He smelled amazing, too.

"Why are you hesitating?" Cas growled softly in her ear. "Had I been a real assailant, I would have snapped your neck by now."

Pamela felt weak in the knees. She had imagined this type of scenario many times. He would spin her around, and she would look up at him adoringly. Then he would pull her to him and kiss her roughly on the mouth, telling her that he and his wife were not going to remarry after the annulment, and that he'd been attracted to Pamela for a long time now. Then his hands would be on her bare skin, and -

Cas threw Pamela down on the mat and took his blade out of his pants pocket. He touched the spring and went down on his knees, holding the blade tip to her throat. All of the Angels stopped what they had been doing and froze in place, watching quietly.

"If you ever do that again, you will join your brother in death," Cas said angrily. "Do you think I do not know what you are doing? Now get up, and leave my sight. I am a married man, as you well know."

Cas took his blade away as Pamela struggled to her feet. "That's not what I hear," she said tartly. If she had been a human, Pamela's face would have been bright red now. Everyone was staring at her. Now she was humiliated, and she was also angry. "Even if you get your wife back in one piece, you're in the midst of the ancient annulment process, aren't you?" Pamela said bluntly.

The Angels in the room all gasped. Only their close family and friends had known about that, although rumours had circulated, of course. But they couldn't believe the utter audacity of the girl. Cas and Gail were currently apart, not due to any annulment, but because Gail was in mortal peril on Earth.

Cas's eyes blazed a bright blue, and he raised his hand towards Pamela. But before he could smite her into oblivion, Cas felt someone grab his hand from behind.

"Careful, your Godship," Gabriel said softly. "You don't want to do something you'll regret."

"I cannot imagine that I would ever regret it," Cas said through clenched teeth.

"Now, how do you think our little Kitten would feel when she comes back, and you have to tell her you're getting locked up in your own prison?" Gabe asked Cas. "I don't think she'll be too happy about that, do you?" The Archangel made eye contact with Riley and Kevin, the Angels who were standing closest to Pamela. He jerked his head in her direction. "Take that bit-" He cut himself off, glancing at Liz. "Take that bit of fluff away."

Riley and Kevin moved forward and grabbed Pamela by her arms, and they were none too gentle about it.

"No. Gabriel is wrong," Liz piped up, and everyone looked at her, puzzled. "Take that BITCH away," Liz said deliberately, glaring at Pamela. The Angels hustled the girl out of the room as Gabriel relaxed his hold on Cas. Gabe smiled at Liz. "I couldn't have said it better myself," he said to her.

Cas took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, trying to calm himself down. He looked at Gabriel. "Go about your bid-ness, everybody," Gabriel said casually. "Nothing to see here."

As the Angels went back to what they had been doing, Gabriel peered closely at Cas's face. "You doing okay there, big guy? Do you need a minute?" Then, because he was who he was, Gabe smirked. "'I cannot imagine that I would ever regret it'," Gabe quoted, repeating what Cas had said about Pamela. "That was pretty good. You're gonna have to start writing those down for me. I think I have to up my verbal game. As it is, Liz has installed a swear jar in her office."

Cas sighed. "I'm not in the mood to joke around, Gabriel."

"I know, Cas. I'm sorry," Gabe said sincerely. "Look, I want to help, any way I can. Do you want me to go all Archangel on your father-in-law's ass?"

"No," Cas said, frowning. "Force isn't the answer. Believe me, if it were, I would have rained down Holy fire on the place by now. What I wouldn't give..." His eyes flashed bright again, and his fists clenched. "But we can't risk it. We have to take a subtle approach in this case. But it's killing me, Gabriel. The longer this goes on, the more frightened I become."

Gabriel's forehead wrinkled. "Is there anything I can do, Cas? Anything at all? I owe you and Gail one. Actually, I'm pretty sure I owe you more than one. Do you want me to send you back in time, to before you guys went to that bar in Virginia that I'm not supposed to know about?"

Cas opened his mouth, but Gabriel put his hand up. "No, Cas. It's OK. Gail was really depressed, and Liz thought if I came, I might say something inappropriate. Me. Can you imagine?" Cas stared at him balefully, and Gabriel added, "OK, OK. Bad example. But if I take you back to before you went there, she's not in that compound. Right?"

Cas was miserable. "Yes, Gabriel. But everyone else still WOULD be. What kind of a God would I be if I were to even entertain such a notion?"

Gabriel looked at his Brother with compassion. He was right, of course. But just as the Archangel was trying to think of something comforting to say, Cas's cell phone rang. He had been keeping it in his other pants pocket. He took it out. The display said "Unknown Number". He answered it, but the room was noisy and he couldn't make out who was on the other end, so he hurried out of the gym and into the corridor.

"Hey, dumbass, watch your flank," Paul said to Ethan, smirking. Then he reached down, extending his hand to Ethan to help him up from the mat. Paul had lunged at Ethan with the pretend knife and Ethan had used his best evasive move, but he had overbalanced, falling to the mat with a thud.

Linda strode over to the two men, shaking her finger at Paul. "You be nice to Ethan," she scolded the young black Angel. "He's a good man. We go way back."

"Ahhh, I was just yanking his chain," Paul told her, grinning. "Yeah, it's OK, Linda," Ethan assured her. "We're fine."

"OK, well...good," Linda said, sounding almost disappointed.

Paul laughed, taking her hand. "Hey, if it's a fight you're after, I can give you one later, if you want."

"Paul," she said, "behave yourself." But she was smiling now, and she gave his hand a squeeze.

Ethan's mouth dropped open. "But - we thought - "

"I know, I know," Linda said. "Everybody just assumed that it was Henri and I who were dating." Then she frowned, looking up at Paul. "I guess the cat's out of the bag now, though. We'd better have our little talk with Kevin soon. I don't want him to find out from someone else." She looked around the room, pointing her finger at all the Angels, who were looking at them. "So everybody just keep their mouths shut," Linda said sternly.

As soon as Cas got out into the hallway, he spoke into the phone again. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Cas, it's me," Gail said softly.

His heart leaped in his chest. "Are you all right, my love? Where are you?"

"I'm OK, Cas, but I can't talk loud, and I can't talk for long," she replied. "I'm still in the compound. But I knew how worried everybody would be, sp I wanted to let you know I'm OK. Rob is, too. Tell Frank and Jody. But I can't stay on the phone, sweetie. I took a big chance, lifting this phone. I'm playing politics right now. I told Vincent I'd cooperate, with the understanding that I refused to hurt anybody, or stand by if one of the three amigos did it. Jason - "

" - Have they hurt you?" Cas interrupted anxiously.

Gail smiled grimly. Never mind. She would tell Cas about Jason when she saw her husband next. With any luck, that would be soon. "No, but I can't worry about that. I'm doing a delicate dance, Cas. As long as I cooperate, Vincent's made me certain promises. But if he finds out I'm talking to you, he'll freak out. I made him certain promises, too. But unless you have an extraction strategy for us, I just might be able to do something from the inside, here. How are YOU, Cas? Are you OK?"

A tear dribbled from the corner of his eye. No. No, he wasn't. Of course he wasn't. He should be doing something. He should be saving her. Gail had been very evasive to him about her sojourn in Hell, but Cas had elicited some details from their family and friends about the team effort it had taken to get her out. But apparently, aside from them telling her where the Portal was, Gail had done it all pretty much on her own. Now, she was on her own again. Cas hitched in a breath.

"I've got to go, Cas. I'll try to get outside at some point. If I get far enough away from the building, maybe I can call you on Angel Radio. 'Bye," Gail said, and then she hung up abruptly.

Cas stood there, staring at the phone in his hand. He hadn't even told her that he loved her. He hadn't even apologized to her for letting her down.

He put the phone back in his pocket, then winked down to the bunker to tell everyone about her call.

Gail returned the cell phone to Benoit's jacket pocket, putting a finger to her lips. Rob gave her a quick smile, and then he sat up straight in his chair as Gail touched Benoit on the forehead.

"So as I was saying, I'm going to lay out some cards on the table, face down," Benoit told the young man, as if they had just been speaking a moment ago. "You will tell me what you think the symbols are on them, and I'll record your answers. If the results are good, we will proceed to more difficult tasks."

Rob's lips were twitching. Wow. That had been awesome. It was so weird seeing Aunt Gail being so pleasant with these guys, pretending to work with them. But Rob was smart enough to know that she was up to something. So he'd kept his mouth shut, and followed Benoit's instructions. Gail had hooked Rob up to the machine that was supposed to measure his brain waves, telling Benoit that, since he was her nephew, Rob would squirm less if it was her who was doing it. So Benoit had allowed it, sitting back in his chair to wait. While Gail was taking care of that, she was sending Rob a message with her mind, hoping that he would pick up on it. She had no way of knowing if he had, but he had seemed to relax under her ministrations.

Then, when Gail had finished hooking everything up, she had walked back to Benoit's side of the table and stood behind him. Suddenly, she put her hand quickly on his head, modifying his memory. Benoit was still talking, explaining the testing process to Rob, as Gail drew up a chair next to Benoit. But even as she was deftly checking his pockets, the man didn't react at all to what she was doing. It was the weirdest, coolest thing that Rob had ever seen. But he didn't dare laugh, because the situation was too serious.

Gail couldn't believe her luck when she'd found the cell phone in Benoit's inside jacket pocket. They weren't supposed to have those, especially not in the testing rooms. But she'd discovered quite a lot of things about the dynamics between Vincent and the testers in the last few days that they probably wouldn't want her to know, things that she thought could prove very useful.

When Cas had been forced to leave the compound, Gail had initially been very angry. Recalcitrant. Go ahead and blow her up, then, she'd told Vincent. Blow them all up. What the hell did she care? While he was at it, though, he should blow himself up too, because that would be a merciful death compared to what Cas was going to do to him. Vincent had just smiled indulgently at her, and then he'd snapped his fingers, putting her back in her suite.

She'd sat there stewing for a day, maybe two. There was no real way to mark time here. No windows, no clocks. So she just sat there, staring straight ahead, her mind inventing creatively painful ways for Vincent to die. Then she had tried to put her mind to more constructive use, wondering just how the hell she was going to get them out of this predicament. Cas would be at the bunker brainstorming with everyone, she knew, but she needed to do her part, too. How many of Vincent's progeny were here? What kind of talents did they have? How could those be used against him? But first and foremost, in her mind was the chip with the explosives. Her wrists were still red, and she examined them carefully now. She looked up nervously at the security cameras. But then, she'd decided it didn't matter. Even if they were watching her right now, she was only looking. It would be pretty normal behaviour to want to look, if someone told you that you had explosives embedded in your arm, wouldn't it? She couldn't see anything under her skin, but that didn't really mean anything. She thought about feeling around, but the thought made her nervous. Who knew how sensitive the things were? Just because Vincent said they were computer-controlled didn't mean that they couldn't be set off by other means. And if she started playing around too much and they saw her on the cameras, they could...what? What would they do?

Who knew, but she'd decided to tread lightly for now. What she needed was more information. She had way too many questions, and zero answers. So then she decided that the next time that he came for her, she was going to ask him for some. If she appeared to be considering giving him a modicum of her cooperation, maybe they could do a "quid pro quo" kind of thing. Gail had no problem picturing the bastard as Hannibal Lecter. None at all.

But she would have to be careful. Vincent was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. If she cooperated too easily, he wouldn't believe her. So she turned on the TV and sat watching it for a while, and then, when she thought the time was right, she said aloud, "If you meant what you said about letting us all go home after the testing, I might be willing to talk about an arrangement."

She waited a few more minutes, and predictably enough, there was a knock at the door. A moment later, Vincent let himself in.

"Of course I meant what I said," he told her, without preliminary.

"Wow. Stalk much?" she said sarcastically, indicating the security cameras.

"You knew very well that I was watching you," he said matter-of-factly. "It was me you were talking to, wasn't it?"

"OK, you've got me, there," she said. She shut off the TV and looked at him. "If you know me as well as you think you do, then you know that I'm not happy here without my husband. So, since you won't let him stay here with me, I might be inclined to help you, just so we can speed the process along and get home. That's if you were telling the truth, of course. I'm sure you'll understand that I have some trust issues. That tends to happen when people plant bombs in me, and menace my family."

Vincent smiled, giving her a half-shrug. "Sure, I get that," he said casually. "But I needed to get your attention, somehow. That husband of yours is insanely hot. Why would you want to leave THAT to spend some time with your dear old dad?"

Gail said nothing. If he was trying to get a rise out of her, he would have to try a lot harder than that. He should try a verbal joust with Crowley sometime.

Vincent appraised her. "Do you have the full Angelic array of powers?"

Gail laughed shortly. "I'm not even sure what that means, but yes, I have the standard powers. I can help you with the testing, if you want. But I refuse to hurt anyone, and I won't tolerate any of your testers hurting anyone, either. If you can assure me of that, and promise me that we'll all walk out of here explosion-free at the end of it, I'm willing to help you move things along. I can teleport, modify people's minds, and do a bunch of other cool things."

Vincent smirked. "Those are a lot of conditions for someone who's not in any position to dictate conditions."

She shrugged. "Take it or leave it. I'm an eternal being. So unless you're going to blow me up right now, I can wait. How good's your intel? Are you aware that I was dead, recently? Yet, here I am. I've died for my principles before, and I'll do it again, if I have to."

"Well, aren't you noble," Vincent said in a harsh voice. He was pissed off now. She had been dead recently? He hadn't known anything about that. Why hadn't he known anything about that? But he took a breath and thought about it for a minute. What she was requesting wasn't unreasonable by any means, and it wasn't anything he wasn't prepared to give. But he didn't want her to think he was that easy. "Maybe I'll just blow up a bunch more kids, then," he added nastily.

Gail felt sick to her stomach when he said that, but she was determined to stand her ground. If she kept letting him hold that over her, they'd never get anywhere. She visualized Cas, sitting at the high-limit poker table. Cool as a cucumber, while holding absolutely nothing. She shrugged. "Then I guess you won't be testing any kids, will you?"

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Gail didn't blink; she was afraid to even breathe. But then, Vincent smiled slowly. "Very good, Gail. Good girl. There's my DNA, kicking in. Either that, or Castiel has injected some of his ice water into your veins."

Gail felt a sudden chill. What a strange thing to say. For a moment, she had a vision of Cas, holding her down and injecting her with his own poisoned blood. But that had never happened, and besides, she hadn't thought about it in years. She shook it off. "I just don't think you would go to all this trouble only to sabotage your whole operation," she told him, "especially when I haven't asked you for anything you're not already willing to give. Am I right?"

Now it was Vincent's turn to be a little disconcerted. That was exactly what he'd been thinking, just a moment ago. Maybe Gail should be staying in the Psychic Wing, instead. But if she was truly willing to play ball, he supposed he could, too. Besides, he had the upper hand, in a number of aspects. If he needed her to capitulate to something before his secret weapon took hold, he could always explode a couple more kids. But Vincent was certain that he could outwait her on that score. Even now she was being compromised, and she had absolutely no idea.

"Oh, and I want to see Rob, too," Gail added. "Make sure he's all right."

"OK, now you're pushing it," Vincent said, frowning. "I'll tell you what. I'll start you out with Dr. Roarke and the teleporters. You can actually be a big help, there. We'll set you up in the receiving area. Then you can shuttle them back to the testing room afterwards. He wants to attach a monitor to the subjects, measuring their vital signs, and all that crap. But don't worry, it won't hurt the poor things. Not that I really care. But, he's the doctor, and I gave him the green light to do his thing." He smiled again, but it was an insincere, wolfish one. "And just so you know, the testing area will be covered in sigils."

Gail nodded. Of course it would be. That was okay; there was no way she would just up and leave, deserting Rob and all the other innocents who were here.

"We'll see how you do with Roarke," Vincent continued. "If you cooperate and don't cause any trouble, we can talk about extending your privileges. Sound good?"

No. "Yes," Gail said. "Yeah. Fine."

Vincent stood there for a moment, looking at her. "You know, I really don't want to hurt you, Gail. I know you've been hurt plenty, in the past. Sometimes, by the ones who claim to love you the most. I'll be back for you in the morning."

As Gail sat on the couch puzzling over what he could possibly have been talking about, Vincent let himself out of her suite. Then, he smirked again. Out of tiny acorns, mighty oaks sometimes grew. Roarke had assured him that the formula would work on her very effectively. It would just take a little systemic dosing, just like with her husband. But in the meantime, she could be Vincent's little Angel flunky, while thinking that she was pulling one over on him.

He walked down the corridor, whistling a happy tune.

Gail had thought that the hardest thing would be to deal with Vincent. But now, as she walked into the test lab and saw Dr. Roarke standing there, she realized she might have been wrong about that. This was the Angel who had dosed Cas to the brink of madness in Heaven's jail. Dr. Roarke? Dr. Mengele, was more like it.

But she had to grit her teeth and work with the man, if she had any hopes of getting them out of this mess. However, that didn't mean she should be too nice, either. Vincent wasn't here at the moment, but he would doubtless be receiving a report. If she was too polite to the man who had done those things to Cas, Vincent would smell a rat.

"Let's get one thing straight, right away," Gail said to the Angel. "I hate you. If you and I were meeting under any other circumstances, and I had my blade, you would be one dead doctor right now." She heaved a sigh. "Having said that, I have agreed to work with you. But if I see one syringe coming out, or if you hurt any of the test subjects, I'll kill you anyway, and I'll do it with a smile on my face. Are we understood?"

Dr. Roarke stared at her. He had heard a lot of stories about Castiel's wife, and now, he saw that most of them had apparently been true. Patricia had told him that Gail was common, and that she was rude. She was obviously violent, as well. Considering who she was married to, that came as no real surprise. The instant that Castiel had accidentally acquired the Office from Patricia, the good doctor had fled Heaven, using the Portal that Patricia had created for her spies to use. He had been taking no chances. Jason had brought Dr. Roarke into Vincent's employ, although how a vampire who used to be an Angel would know an ancient voodoo High Priest was beyond Roarke. He wasn't sure he even wanted to know.

But Dr. Roarke had his own reasons for being here. Gail's bitter mental reference to Dr. Mengele a few moments ago was closer to the mark than she might have realized. The Angel doctor had been fascinated by pharmaceuticals for as long as he could remember. When he had been a human, many drugs had been in their infancy, as far as research and development were concerned. He used to stay late in the lab, experimenting with different combinations. But he'd never had the chance to try out any of his concoctions on any human beings. Before he'd had the opportunity to formulate any sort of plan, there had been a fire in the building, and Dr. Roarke had perished in it. Because he had helped so many people in life in his profession as a physician, he had gone to Heaven. People weren't sent to Hell on the basis of their mental meanderings, but on their deeds. If Roarke had had the chance to follow through on his thoughts of experimentation on humans, his fate would have been quite different. But as it was, here he was, an Angel, working for an ersatz Axis of Evil. Patricia had availed herself of his dark hobby in Heaven in order to subjugate Castiel, and even though he'd had to flee Heaven when Castiel had taken over the reins of power, Roarke had found a new home here.

He looked at Gail dispassionately. It was so strange, the idea of working alongside Castiel's wife. The doctor felt complete apathy towards her, though. He could understand why she was upset with him, of course. But that did not concern Roarke. Vincent had assured him that she would cooperate with him, and if she did not, he need only report it.

"I will explain to you what we will be doing here," he said to Gail, ignoring her little speech. He showed her the equipment he would be using, then handed her a walkie-talkie unit. "You will be in the receiving room," he instructed her. "Once I have hooked the subject up to the monitor, I will give the coordinates for the receiving room, and tell them to transport themselves there. Then I will call you on the transmitter, to let you know they are coming. As soon as the subject appears, I would like you to note the time, and the numbers that appear on the monitor."

"What is this 'monitor', exactly?" Gail asked him suspiciously.

"It's just to measure vital signs," the doctor said in a businesslike tone. "I'm interested in seeing the effects that the act of teleportation have on the human body."

Gail was seething inside, but she was being careful to maintain a calm facade. Yeah, she could just bet he was "interested in the effects". He had obviously been interested in the effects of toxic injections on Angels, too. Her hands curled into fists and she dug her fingernails into her palms, taking a deep breath. "What if they don't show up?" she asked him, trying to maintain her focus on the task at hand. "When I was first learning how to teleport, sometimes I missed, and ended up elsewhere." And do you know who helped me learn how to do it, teaching me patiently and lovingly? The guy you were systematically poisoning in Heaven, she thought angrily. Boy, she'd better stop having those kinds of thoughts right now, though. Either her fingernails were going to pierce straight through her hand in a minute, or she was going to pick up the nearest blunt instrument and study the effects of repeated bashings on a doctor's skull.

"This facility is set up for many contingencies," Dr. Roarke told her, maintaining his calm tone. "This particular area is sealed off from the remainder of the compound. Once we get them in here, it'll be impossible for them to teleport out of the grid. If they don't show up within a few seconds of when I call you on the radio, it'll be your job to walk around the corridors and look for them. Vincent has advised me that we have to work within the framework of sigils here. Therefore, neither of us can teleport, even though the humans can," he added, frowning.

Interesting, Gail thought. She showed no reaction to the fact that Dr. Roarke had basically just told her that he was as powerless as she was, at the moment. It was too soon to act right now, but she filed that little tidbit away for future reference.

Then the testing began, and Gail soon lost herself in the routine. The "subjects" ranged in age from early teens to a couple of people who looked like they were in their 40s. One by one they filed into the test lab, and Dr. Roarke put them through their paces. Most were cooperative; docile, even, as if they had been sedated. Gail looked suspiciously at Dr. Roarke, but he couldn't have injected anyone with anything, as she had been here with him the whole time. She had insisted on staying with him until each subject was outfitted. Then she would take the radio and the clipboard and pen, and walk down the hall to the room where the person was supposed to show up. Roarke hadn't been pleased that she had insisted on walking back and forth each time instead of just remaining in the receiving area, but she had glared at him balefully, and he had given in, rather than start an argument.

There were a couple of reasons that Gail had wanted to do it that way. The first reason was that she wanted to make sure the doctor wasn't doing anything he shouldn't to those people when her back was turned. But there was another reason, as well.

She had been hoping that a couple of them would mess up, and sure enough, Dr. Roarke called her on the radio four subjects in to tell her that the girl who was supposed to be in the receiving area had left.

"You mean Violet?" Gail said into her walkie.

"Subject 004," he said back.

"If that's Violet, then yes," she replied sharply. Gail had made it a point to ask them all for their names as Roarke was sitting them down and hooking them up. She was determined to make the point that these were human beings, not "subjects".

"Well, she's not here," Gail said into her radio. "I'll go look for her."

Good. Gail walked out of the room and up and down the corridors, looking for the girl. It afforded her the opportunity to check the place out. Ultimately, though, she was disappointed. There was absolutely nothing to see. No rooms, no exits. The place was like a mouse maze. She came upon Violet in one of the hallways and brought her back to the test lab, after assuring the girl that everything was just fine. Violet followed her complacently. It was really strange. None of the people seemed agitated, or had any questions. They had to be sedated somehow.

But then, a few people later, a young man walked into the test lab, and Gail had to do a double-take. Rob? No, although he resembled her nephew enough for her to have had to look twice. Then, she remembered: When she had first gotten here, Vincent had told her that Rob had a twin brother, who was also here.

"Hi! What's your name?" she asked the young man, her pen hovering over the page on the clipboard.

"It's Eric. What's yours?" he asked boldly.

She looked at him, intrigued. Eric. Eric. Gail was pretty sure that was the name that Vincent had used. Also, he was the first lively person they had seen. The others had just shuffled in, followed instructions, and then shuffled out.

"I'm Gail," she told him. "If you'll have a seat, we'll be done in a jiffy."

"Oh, yeah? Why, are you going, after me?" Eric said sarcastically.

Gail's lips twitched. She couldn't help it. She liked this guy. That was exactly what she would be saying, if she was in his position.

"Never mind; just sit in that chair and hold out your arm," Dr. Roarke said to the young subject. The doctor was puzzled. Everyone else had behaved themselves. Maybe he should check after this session, to make sure the air vents were working properly in the young man's room.

But even though Eric was frowning at the two of them, he sat down and allowed the doctor to attach the equipment to him without further comment.

As soon as Roarke gave Gail the nod, she left the room and headed down the hall. Her heart was beating a little faster now. Rob's twin brother. Wow. She liked the fact that he'd been a little defiant. Maybe they could use that, further on down the line.

Gail waited in the room, but Eric didn't come when the doctor said he was supposed to be there. So she went wandering through the halls again and found him rushing around, examining the ceiling and the walls.

"Hi," Gail said to the young man, making him jump.

"All right, fine. You caught me," Eric said, shrugging. "I was actually trying to get outside the building, but I ended up here, instead."

She was bemused. "They've sealed this whole wing up, just in case anybody tried that," Gail told him.

"What do you mean, 'they'?" he said irritably. "Aren't you working with them?"

She sighed. "It's complicated. Do you think you could have made it, if the place wasn't sealed?"

Eric smirked. "Lady, I would be in Mexico right now if I could have gotten the hell out of here."

Gail's lips twitched again. OK, she really liked this guy. She could see the family resemblance when she looked closer at his face. He was a little shorter and stockier than Rob, but there could be no doubt that they were brothers.

She opened her mouth to say something; anything, because he was looking at her strangely now, almost as if he knew what she was thinking. But then, the radio crackled. "We'll be right there," she said irritably, giving Eric an apologetic look. He frowned again, but followed her back to the test lab.

Then, a while later, they were finished. Dr. Roarke gathered up all of the sheets of paper that Gail had given him and changed the frequency on his walkie unit. A minute or so later, Vincent came in.

"So, how was your day?" he asked Gail cheerfully.

"Just let me punch my time card, and then you can take me for a beer," she quipped.

He threw his head back and laughed. "See? It's not so bad, is it?" he said to her. As Gail tried to formulate a suitable retort, Vincent looked at Dr. Roarke. "How was she?" her father asked the Angel.

"She was adequate," the doctor said expressionlessly, engrossed in the data he was studying.

"Wow. Remind me to take you off my list of job references," Gail said dryly.

Vincent laughed again. He'd had no idea she would be this much fun. "You know, if you really meant it about that drink, I have a fully stocked liquor cabinet in my suite," he told her.

She looked at him coolly. A couple of quips from her and suddenly, he thought they were besties, or something. Was he honestly trying to schmooze her? But then, she thought about it some more. While he was trying to schmooze her, she'd best be trying to schmooze him. The more information she could gather about him and his operations here, the better.

"Do you have any whiskey?" she asked him.


	2. Black Magic Woman

Chapter 2 - Black Magic Woman

When Cas had delivered the news to their family that he had talked to Gail and that she and Rob were all right, the mood had been mutedly jubilant. Yes, it was great that they were fine right now, but what were they going to do to get them the hell out of there? So, after the initial outburst of excitement, everyone had fallen into a glum, pensive silence again.

"You know, Nietzsche once said 'What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger'," Sam said.

"Well then, we should be the freakin' Avengers, by now," Dean said angrily.

"He also said: 'To live is to suffer; to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering'," Jody said in a subdued tone. Everyone looked at her. "What? I read too, you know," she said.

But Cas had perked up a little at what she had said. After all, he was his Father's son. He was used to God trying to send him messages through suffering and atonement. What was he missing, here? Which of his many sins was he being punished for this time? And what was the attendant lesson?

"It's not your fault, Cas," Frank said softly.

Cas looked at Gail's brother, wrinkling his forehead. Had he spoken aloud?

"It's not your fault," Frank repeated. "I know you well enough by now to know that you're beating yourself up over this. So was I, about Rob. But there was nothing we could have done, Cas. Vincent's just an evil dick, who's gonna get what's coming to him. We'll make sure of that. OK, Cas? Chin up. We'll find a way. Together. OK?" He put his hand on Cas's shoulder, and Cas's eyes stung with unshed tears.

"Thank you, Frank. That means a lot to me," Cas said to his brother-in-law, putting his hand on top of Frank's.

"She said she's cooperating with them, trying to get intel? Smart," Jody said approvingly.

"I feel like we should be doing something more than just waiting, though," Sam said, frustrated.

"Yeah...but what?" Bobby said angrily.

Several days prior to her phone call to Cas, the night after she had been assisting Dr. Roarke all day, Gail was back in her suite. She and Vincent had had one of those caustic back-and-forth exchanges, and she'd thought that she was going to get to see his quarters when she had agreed to have a drink with him. But maybe he'd thought better of it, because Vincent and Dr. Roarke had exchanged a glance, and then Vincent had snapped his fingers, sending Gail to her room.

Oh, well. She hadn't really wanted to socialize with him, anyway. But, Gail was frustrated now. She'd learned a couple of things today, but so far, there was nothing she could really use.

She thought about Cas, and all of her loved ones. They must be climbing the walls by now. She could picture them all gathered at the bunker, trying to come up with a rescue plan. But she couldn't wait for that to happen. The longer they were here, the more chance there was for things to go south. She remembered reading about Waco. No, she had to figure something out, soon.

She pictured Cas sitting disconsolately at the bunker table. Would he sit in his usual seat, or would he move to a different one, because to sit there without her seemed like sacrilege, somehow? She could see him in her mind's eye, picking a different chair to sit in. But then, he would change his mind, and get up to move. But he wouldn't be able to, because there was a Devil's Trap underneath it. Cas would lift his head, bellowing at the Winchesters to remove it, his purple eyes flashing...

Wait, what? Gail gave her head a vigorous shake. Why on earth did she just picture that? That had been years ago. No, wait. It had never happened. It. Had. Never. Happened. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Trying to visualize the warm, loving Cas she knew.

And that was when Vincent let himself into her suite.

After Vincent and Dr. Roarke had had their little chat, Vincent had stalked angrily back to his suite. He'd thought that Roarke wanted to tell him something about Gail that he didn't want her to hear. So, Vincent had sent her to her room and stood looking expectantly at the doctor.

"Don't you think we could benefit more if she stays in her room?" the physician said to him.

Vincent looked at him coolly. "Who's running this place, you or me? I want to have a drink with my daughter, and I don't need your permission to do it."

"I'm not suggesting that you do," the doctor replied dispassionately, gathering up his paperwork. "I'm merely saying that if you want her to be consistently exposed to the gas, she has to remain in her suite when she is not working. The sooner she becomes compliant, the better, correct? But, it's your call, as I believe the expression goes. The longer the formula takes to take hold, the more risk you run that she will rebel. The more risk we all run. Castiel's temper is legendary, and God's wrath is fearsome to behold."

Vincent's look grew dark, but he grudgingly had to admit that Roarke was right. It was a good thing he had phrased his advice the way he had, though, or he would be a puddle of goo on the floor right now. If there was anything that Vincent hated, it was being told what to do.

So Vincent sat in his own suite after leaving the test lab, sipping leisurely at his own drink. Maybe, once Gail was fully compliant, he'd get her to call him Papa. Vincent missed his people in the Caribbean. They all called him "Papa Legba", a diminutive of the name of Papa Legbo, the elderly Priest who had inducted Vincent. The old man was dead now, of course. As soon as Vincent had learned how to concentrate his powers, he had requested a meeting with Papa Legbo, and when the old man had arrived, Vincent had ambushed him, taking him by surprise. No one had ever raised a hand to Papa Legbo before; no one would ever have dared. But Vincent wasn't just anyone. He'd realized that, as long as Papa Legbo was around, he was always going to be second fiddle to the old man. So, he had killed him. He'd put up a fierce fight, earning Vincent's respect. But in the end, youth had won out over experience, and when Vincent garroted the old man with his own walking stick, Papa Legbo had known that the torch had been passed.

Then Vincent had drained the elderly Priest of his blood and burned his body on the beach, after removing a few of his bones, which he still kept in a jar for future use. Vincent had taken some of the blood to the crossroads, after changing into black clothing. There, he had recited the ancient spell, after drinking some of Papa's blood to absorb the old man's knowledge. Then he had painted the necessary symbols on the road, stepped into the centre, and been transported back in time.

Vincent leaned back against the couch cushions with the drink in his hand, reminiscing. In a lot of ways, things had been much better for a guy like him back then. Men had been Alphas in every sense of the word back in that era. The tradeoff was that conditions had been very primitive, and the creature comforts minimal. But he had felt the compulsion to go, anyway.

He had attended the pagan ritual, and he was pleased to see that there were so many attractive women there, practicing magic. A diminutive woman with flaming red hair had caught his eye, and when Vincent had seen a sample of her talents, he had targeted her to be the mother of his offspring.

Vincent really did want to get to know Gail better now, to find out what characteristics they might share. Or Priscilla, as she'd gone by, then. Vincent and Fergus, aka Crowley, both liked a drink or three, and favoured the colours of black and red. Vincent spoke every known language, and from what he had been able to discern, Crowley could understand them all.

Vincent still found it very amusing that the siblings didn't know anything about their true relationship to each other. At least, that was the impression he was under. Papa Legba knew a great deal, but he was not aware that Raguel had spilled the beans, to both Rowena and Crowley. But the Angels remained in the dark about all of it. Vincent had been toying with the idea of telling Gail himself, but it was probably too soon in their relationship for that. Or maybe he should just wait until the inevitable return of Castiel, and hit God with both barrels at once: his wife's true lineage, and her imminent betrayal.

It was funny, really; when Vincent had appeared to Fergus in that pub centuries ago, after Priscilla had left there with John Alden, he really hadn't cared which of them would inherit the family business, so to speak. Vincent wasn't a sexist, or so he would tell anyone who accused him of it. He just treated most women like crap because, in his view, they asked to be treated that way. But he'd been willing to give Priscilla a chance, if she'd shown an interest. In fact, one could almost argue that Vincent should have picked her, anyway. She had calmly and coolly left that pub on John Alden's arm, putting Fergus's manhood in her coin purse as she left. Man, that had been cold. Vincent grinned every time he thought about it. Of course, John had been a handsome, rugged sailor. And Fergus? Well, he had been a little troll of a man, with a bitter and blackening heart, who was deep into his cups more nights than not. Of course Priscilla had gone with John. Vincent would have, too. And it was even funnier when you realized that Fergus and Priscilla had been brother and sister. None of them had known that at the time except for Vincent, of course. It amused him to no end to think of what might have happened if Castiel's arrival at that pub had been timed a little differently, and Crowley had decided to force the issue. The family reunions would certainly be a lot more interesting.

In any event, it had been Crowley who had earned the crown, because Gail had been attracted to the light instead of the dark. And when Papa Legba had shown up at that dingy little pub to test his son, Fergus had passed with flying colours. All he'd had to do was say no, when Vincent had offered him the chance to curse Castiel and Gail for all eternity. That was all that Fergus would have had to do. In order for the enchantment to work, consent was required. And it had been given.

But, by acquiescing, Crowley had also cursed himself, in perpetuity. Once Vincent had granted his son's wish, like the proverbial genie in the lamp, the curse had encompassed all three of them, in a sort of rebound effect. The trio were destined to go throughout history together, in some form or another, until the end of time.

And it was all Gail's fault, Vincent mused, taking another swallow of his drink. He'd taken Priscilla from her birth mother for a reason. It was she who Vincent had really wanted to take over the Kingdom. The moment he had looked down at those babies, Vincent had known that she would be the superior candidate. But she kept on making the wrong choice, time after time, era after era. Vincent wouldn't even have minded if Priscilla and Fergus were to rule side by side. They almost had, once. And whatever form their relationship would take could be completely up to them. If they opted to be involved carnally, Vincent would be fine with that. It wasn't Disneyland they were inheriting, it was Hell, and all of its environs. But a certain blue-eyed, devastatingly handsome, sickeningly good Good Guy kept getting in the way. God had definitely had the last laugh there. The Almighty played a mean game of one-upmanship. He had created a Castiel who had been impossible for Gail to resist. It didn't seem to matter who they were, which era they existed in, or the gruesome types of deaths they had had to suffer along the way. Vincent couldn't get over it. She'd picked Castiel every time. Every. Damn. Time.

But now, Vincent had taken matters into his own hands. If Crowley hadn't been man enough to bring Gail over to the dark side all this time, Papa Legba was damn well going to. The first steps had already been taken. She was cut off from her Holy husband, she was cooperating with the testing, and Dr. Roarke's mind-altering formula was being pumped into her suite, in the form of an undetectable gas. Soon, the very sight of Castiel would be enough to turn Gail into a screaming, raving, paranoid mess.

Now, to turn on the charm. Vincent grabbed a bottle of whiskey and popped himself over to her suite.

"So you're claiming you just want to get acquainted?" Gail asked him tartly. Vincent nodded. "Well, the first thing you should know about me is that I don't drink straight whiskey."

"What do you take in it?" he said patiently.

"Ginger ale."

"Fine," he said shortly, waving his hand. A bottle of ginger ale appeared on the coffee table.

She looked at it, then at her glass, then at him. Vincent stared back at her. What, did the Little Princess expect him to pour it for her, too? Saint Castiel probably did. But Vincent made no move.

Truthfully, for a split second, Gail had been expecting him to do just that. She was just so used to it. And then, for another second, she was wondering if it would be safe to drink. But it would be stupid of him to try to poison her, wouldn't it? Pointless, too. So, she added ginger ale to the shot that was already in her glass. Then she regarded the whiskey bottle and shrugged, grabbing it and adding some more to the glass.

Vincent laughed. "You're my daughter, all right."

She took a sip of her drink, regarding him balefully. "What's the deal with you, anyway?"

Vincent poured himself a shot. "What do you mean?" he asked her.

"I mean, what's the deal?" she repeated insistently. "What do you do, just run around and get a bunch of women pregnant so you can have human toys to play with? Present company excluded, of course."

He smirked. "Pretty much," he said, nodding. "I'll tell you what: For the purposes of this visit, we're going to be completely honest with each other. No filters. So, yeah. That's what I do."

"And then you would take those kids to Cathy, and have her sell them to couples who wanted babies?" she persisted.

"Once again, that's a yes," Vincent replied. "Geez, if you already know everything, I don't know why you're wasting my time."

"Okay, here's one for you, then," she said acidly. "No filters, eh? Total honesty?" She took another drink. "Was Abigail always that batcrap crazy, or did sleeping with you make her that way?"

Vincent laughed out loud, until tears came to his eyes. He raised his glass to her in salute. "Boy, you not only took the filter off, you put it through the shredder and then burned it," he said, still laughing. "You are clearly on the wrong side of the equasion. You belong on the dark side, with me."

"Yeah?" she said, making a face. "Well, good luck with that."

Vincent continued to smile. She had no idea, the poor little lamb. "To answer your question, Abigail was always a little...neurotic, to be generous about it. But I think that it was motherhood that finally pushed her over the edge."

"Oh, so you're saying it's MY fault," Gail said sarcastically.

"To be fair, I'm probably just as much to blame," Vincent said, shrugging. "She had a house, a wedding ring, and a couple of cats on her mind. But I'm not the settling-down type, and even if I were, it would never have been with her. She was too clingy, even back then. The only reason I screwed her was because I wanted a baby with both clairvoyance and healing abilities. How's that for honesty?"

Gail took another drink. She had to admit, that was pretty honest.

"I'll give you some more honest talk, while we're at it," Vincent said, seeing that he had piqued her interest. "I may not know that much about you right now, because you took the one path I couldn't foresee. I didn't see you dying as young as you did, and becoming an Angel. But I kept tabs on you when you were a child, and I know that you wavered between the dark and the light. You read books that were too old for you, books with very dark subject matter. The minute Christina brought you home, she could sense there was something different about you. I gave you to her, myself. She said she was desperate for a little baby girl. But she lied to Jim about where you really came from, and she couldn't bring herself to admit how she really felt about you. That was one reason she was always harder on you. Distant, emotionally. Frank was with his buddies doing normal kid stuff, Jim was working by day and Hunting by night, and you and Christina were stuck together in that house, oil and water. She'd wanted a little girl to cook and bake with, dress up, and do domestic crap with, and you had zero interest in any of those activities. Am I right? But, you know what? Once again, to be fair, the two of you might have stood a chance if I hadn't ordered Christina to burn all your stuffed animals, when you got back from the hospital. And I made damn sure that stupid penguin was at the top of the heap."

"What?!" she exclaimed.

"You heard me," Vincent said, sitting back in his chair. He appraised her coolly. "I went to the house, told her to throw them all in a bag, and set them on fire. She didn't want to do it, but I told her she'd better, or I was going to pay young Frank a visit at his school."

Gail was willing herself not to cry now. "Why would you DO something like that? I was just a little kid!"

Vincent smiled grimly. "Because I wanted to see how dark you would go. I wanted you on my team."

Gail was speechless. She remembered how much that had hurt, just like it had happened yesterday. It still hurt, now. That had absolutely been a turning point for her, too. She had told Christina that she had hated her, and then she had just shut down emotionally after that. Wow. How frigging diabolical had that been, on his part?

She picked up her drink, clutching the glass until her knuckles were white, and then she drained it, so she wouldn't be tempted to throw it right in his face.

"Did you kill Frank's parents?" she asked him bluntly.

"I love the bonus round questions," Vincent said, still smiling. "Ding, ding! Someone give that girl a kewpie doll! Yep. I did. And before you ask me why, I'll tell you: because they pissed me off. For no other reason than that they pissed me off."

"But I remember seeing Demons in the back yard," Gail said, puzzled.

Vincent leaned back in his chair. "Totally different transaction," he said offhandedly. "They were there to get Jim's soul. Maybe Christina's, too. You'd have to ask Crowley what the terms of the contract he made with her were." Vincent laughed that strange little giggle of his, and then he took another drink. There. See what she did with that.

Gail was open-mouthed, frozen with shock. "Let me get this straight," she said, after a moment. "Are you actually trying to tell me that Christina made a crossroads deal with Crowley?"

"I'm not TRYING to tell you that, I'm TELLING you that. Ask your brother-in-law, if you don't believe me." Vincent giggled again. Then he scowled. "So when Frank gets all uppity about my killing his parents, you can tell him that I beat his mother to it by mere minutes." He drank again. "But we're wasting time, now. I don't want to talk about Frank, and his pathetic excuse for parents. I want to talk about you and me, and that sexy husband of yours."

"I'm surprised you and Crowley aren't related," she said tartly. "You're just as disgusting as he is."

Vincent nearly spit out his drink. Oh, this was too delicious. For an instant, he nearly told her the whole thing. But he resisted the impulse. No. She wasn't ready for that yet. He could tell. She was still too defiant.

But that didn't mean he couldn't wind her up a little. "It's funny you should say that THAT'S disgusting, considering the things I'm sure that you and your Holy hubby have done in the bedroom."

Gail made a face. "I'm not talking to you about that. Get that straight. Not now, not ever. So if that's all you're interested in, you can just get out." She put her empty glass down on the coffee table. "Do you have a work assignment for me tomorrow?"

Vincent glared at her. Roarke had said that she should be starting to feel the effects by now, but it sure didn't seem like that to him. Was it because she was an Angel? No, that couldn't be it. Castiel was one, too, and he had been reduced to a quivering mess by those injections. He let out a frustrated breath, grabbing the whiskey bottle. Maybe she needed a bit of a wake-up call. "You'd better lay off the sauce," he said nastily, rising quickly to his feet. "You'll be working with Jason tomorrow. I don't want him to get drunk, if he decides to take a quick nibble on your neck."

For a second, Gail pictured Jason in Romania, with her blood on his mouth. But then, his face morphed into Cas's. What the hell? She shook it off. "If he does, it'll be his last," she told Vincent coolly. "So unless you want to lose an evil assistant, I suggest you tell him to keep his fangs to himself. And the same goes if he tries it on anybody else, while I'm there."

Vincent got a mental picture of Jason, trying to feed off of one of the telekinetics, and he nearly smiled. Depending on the talent level of the subject, that might not end too well for him. But Vincent wanted to hold on to his anger right now. The uppity little bitch needed to be reminded who the boss was around here.

He dug into his pants pocket with his free hand, pulling out a cell phone. "See this?" He waggled it. "With the touch of a button, I can blow up your nephew right now. Then, we wouldn't have to worry about the poor little fishie being scared by the big, bad men. Your call, Princess."

Gail's heart stopped. Crap. Her and her mouth. But he had disarmed her with all of this so-called honest talk, and then he had angered her with the story about her stuffed animals, and then he had shocked her to the core with the news that Frank's mother had apparently made a Demon deal with Crowley. No wonder she was a little out of sorts. Plus, she kept having these flashes of Cas with purple eyes, doing Demonic things.

"Look, I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just hate Jason. You're probably aware that he and Cas and I have a bad history."

Vincent eyed her for a moment. Then, he put the phone back in his pocket and smiled nastily. "Nevertheless, you're going to work with Jason tomorrow. Because I say so. Unless you were lying when you said that you were going to cooperate."

They eyed each other for a minute, and then she said, "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow, then. Boss."

Vincent smiled insincerely, and then he swept out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him.


	3. Risky Business

Chapter 3 - Risky Business

The telekinetics were the smallest testing group, and it was just as well, because Vincent didn't trust Jason to behave himself for very long. He'd set his vampire assistant up in a suite of his own, with a large fridge containing jars of different types of blood, sort of like a ghoulish buffet. But, unlike any other type of food, Jason's particular nourishment was best served warm and fresh. Vincent actually understood this fact better than most. When he and Jason had been down in the Caribbean discussing what Vincent wanted to accomplish here, Jason had listened with a minimum of interest. But then, as soon as Vincent had mentioned that he intended to include Gail in the process, Jason had perked up. He was very much interested in seeing Gail again. Because wherever Gail was, Castiel was usually not too far behind. So he had volunteered to help Vincent with the testing, giving Papa Legba his promise that he would not feed on any of the subjects while the testing was going on.

Vincent didn't trust Jason as far as he could throw him, though, and the feeling was entirely mutual. In a lot of ways, Vincent reminded Jason of Lucifer. They were petulant, they were arrogant, and both possessed prodigious powers. But unlike Lucifer, Vincent seemed a lot more focused. And their arrangement had been mutually beneficial. Jason had been willing to procure as many live victims for Vincent's rituals as he'd needed, as long as the vampire got his share, too. And when Jason had found out about Vincent's connection to the Angels, he had been only too happy to join his team.

"How nice to see you again," Jason said to Gail, as she walked into the testing facility. He smiled widely, revealing his fangs. Her stomach turned. She'd had alternating visions all night of Cas, being loving and tender one minute, but then biting her, or cutting her with his blade the next. By the time the morning came, she had been mentally exhausted, and more than a little disoriented. Why was she having all of these thoughts now? Had Vincent poisoned her drink, somehow? No, that couldn't be it, because she'd had a few of those visions before they'd had their strange cocktail hour last night. This had to be Vincent's doing, trying to turn her against Cas, somehow. But, how? This was all just happening in her mind, wasn't it? So how was Vincent planting those thoughts there? He hadn't even touched her. Nor had Dr. Roarke. What was going on, here? It was seriously starting to freak her out.

She used bravado to cover it up. "I'll tell you the same thing I told that so-called Angel yesterday," she said to Jason. "I hate you. It's not 'nice' to see you again. We owe you a good beheading, and this time, we're going to make damn sure it takes."

"When did you get so tough?" Jason said, smirking. "You used to be so sweet."

"Ask Lucifer how sweet I can be," she retorted. "You know, your former boss? We killed him, and we'll be two for two soon. In fact, I'm happy we've got so many of you rotten bastards in the same place at the same time. It'll be more convenient to kill you all, that way."

"We'll see," Jason said coolly. "I would ask you to congratulate Castiel on his promotion, but I'm looking forward to doing that in person, soon."

"I'll look forward to that, too," Gail responded in kind. "I'll call the Box Office and reserve my front row seat to see him take you apart, piece by piece. And I'll be sure to remind him how many times you tortured me in Heaven, and how many pints you took from me in Romania."

"Still with the smart mouth, I see," he said irritably. "I see that some things never change. I would love to be the one to shut it."

"I'm standing right here," she shot back.

Jason's blade hand itched, and now, he was remembering how sweet her blood had tasted. But he was trying to exercise self-control. There was a much bigger picture involved here. If Jason wanted to go back and wipe the slate clean, he needed to keep Vincent appeased, and Vincent wanted her alive, and unharmed. They had an agreement. Once Vincent got his hands on the Books, he had promised Jason that he could send the vampire back in time, to before he had been murdered in Heaven. That was something that Jason wanted very much. If he'd never been murdered, he would never have gone to Purgatory. And if he had never gone to Purgatory, he would never have been turned. Jason hated being a vampire. Being subject to his base urge to feed, and going through physical discomfort when he was unable, or felt insufficiently sated. Plainly put, Jason wanted a do-over, and he knew that the Book of Life could give him that chance.

"Let's get to the business at hand," he said in a clipped tone, and Gail tried not to smile. She could surmise that Vincent had told Jason to leave her alone. How she wished that she could rub that in to him, at the very least. But she'd better play it straight. If she remained cooperative today, she was planning to ask to see Rob tomorrow.

"What are we supposed to be doing, here?" Gail asked him, taking a deep breath.

"Today's subject is supposed to be able to light fires with his mind," Jason told her. "We're here to find out."

She looked at him curiously. "What exactly is my role here?"

Jason shrugged. "Call the fire department?"

Gail looked at him sharply. Jason, making a joke? Had Armageddon come, while she'd been locked up here? He shrugged again. "Vincent doesn't explain himself very much. Maybe it just amused him to force you to spend the day with me."

Gail sighed. That wouldn't surprise her, not even one little bit. But she'd better smarten up, now. If she let her personal feelings get in the way, she might miss an opportunity to learn something that would help them all get out of this mess. And a subject who could allegedly light fires with his mind sounded like a damn good start.

Ricky's demeanour appeared to be about the same as the other subjects she'd seen yesterday, save for Eric, Gail thought to herself. He came quietly into the room, looking around with interest at the machines that were set to record the temperature in the testing room, and the asbestos coverings on the walls. He seemed very docile, and his expression was neutral.

"Hi," Ricky said to them.

"Hello...Ricky, is it?" Gail asked him, looking down at the name on top of the form on her clipboard. "I'm Gail, and this is Jason."

"No one cares," Jason said, rolling his eyes. "Get on with it."

"Don't mind him," Gail said to Ricky, gesturing towards Jason. "He got up on the wrong side of the coffin this morning."

Ricky said nothing, and his expression remained the same. Oh, well. You couldn't win them all. Truthfully, Gail had been a little surprised when Ricky had walked in the door, though. The fact that he was Chinese didn't faze her, but he was the oldest subject she'd seen so far. With a name like Ricky, she'd been expecting to see a child.

"Is it true that you can light fires with your mind?" Gail asked the man softly.

Ricky nodded. "Yeah. Ever since I was little."

Gail made a note on the form. She very grudgingly had to admit that Vincent was indeed very organized. He had a lot of questions on this form, and additional room for notes, too.

"But I might not be able to do it for you now," Ricky added. "I've had a headache ever since I got here. I think there might be something wrong in my room."

Gail's pen hesitated. She had no idea what to do with that. "Do you want me to ask Vincent if you can change rooms?" she asked him.

"No, I don't think that'll be necessary," Ricky said mildly. "Maybe the filter in the vent just needs to be changed. There's a bit of a smell coming from there. And before you say anything, it's not my imagination. When I was just a baby, my mother did an ancient spell that increased my sense of smell considerably. She thought it would benefit me, because of my particular...condition. Apparently, I'd already lit a couple of fires around the house by then, and she wanted me to be able to smell smoke quickly."

Gail was puzzled. While Ricky's story about his sense of smell made total sense to her, she was wondering why on earth...

"As interesting as that is, why don't we just get on with the testing?" Jason said irritably. "If you want his life story, you guys can get together later. I won't tell Castiel."

Gail rolled her eyes. "All right." She looked at Ricky and gave him a shrug. "Sorry, Ricky. I guess Mister Crankypants is a little impatient. What do you say we give it a try, and I'll talk to the boss about the air vents in your room when we get done, okay?"

Ricky smiled at her. She was being so kind to him. He decided he would try, for her. "Sure," he said. "Thank you."

They just stood there for a moment, looking at each other, and just as Jason was about to interject again, the sleeve of the vampire's shirt caught fire.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I missed," Ricky said innocently. But as Jason beat his arm with his hand to put out the flames, Ricky gave Gail a quick wink. As she fought to keep a straight face, Jason glared at Ricky. "If you do that again, I'll rip your throat out," he said quietly.

"I have trouble controlling it," Ricky said earnestly. "I've had problems all my life. Honest."

Jason looked at him suspiciously for another moment, but then the vampire let out a frustrated breath. "Fine." He pointed. "Then go in there, and we'll shut the door. Then you can try again."

Ricky almost smiled. If he really wanted to, it would be no problem for him to light that guy on fire from the next room. One time, he'd had a test in school he hadn't studied for, and a sudden fire had broken out in the garbage can in his classroom. It had spread to the teacher's wooden desk, burning up the test papers, which she had left on the surface. Then the sprinkler system had gone on and extinguished the fire, but not before it had done its job. Oh, yes; if Ricky really wanted to, he could light that monster's eyes on fire. But he figured he'd better not mess with him again. He knew the guy was a vampire, of course. Ricky's mother had been a big believer in the occult. Therefore, he knew that the threat had not been an idle one.

The nice woman was looking at the vampire with contempt now. "Do you have any fire extinguishers handy?" Gail asked Jason. He gave her a baleful look. "Do you SEE any?" he retorted.

Unbelievable. "So you're telling me that we have no way of putting out a fire?" she said to Jason, raising her voice.

"That's why we have asbestos on the walls," the vampire said, shrugging.

Gail was trying to control her temper now. "Ricky just told us that he has trouble controlling it. What if he misses the asbestos?"

"Then, we lock him in there, and watch the show," he said nastily.

"Forget it," she said angrily. "I won't allow it. I told Vincent I won't stand for anybody getting hurt."

Jason shrugged again. "Then I guess I'll just have to tell him that you're not cooperating," he stated.

Gail was extremely frustrated now. "I guess being a vampire has made you stupid, too!" she yelled at him, pointing to her wrist. "Do you really want an uncontrolled fire near THESE?"

Jason got her meaning right away, and he realized that she was right. There was no telling what might happen if an uncontrolled fire were to hit the explosives those two had planted under their skin. But he was enraged at the way she had spoken to him. He bolted from his chair and grabbed her by the throat, looming over her. "Let us see who the stupid one is," Jason said, baring his fangs. He lowered his head to her neck as she struggled to break free from his grip.

Ricky was glaring at Jason, and all of a sudden, the vampire's head was on fire. Jason's hand flew off of Gail's throat as he beat at himself with both hands, trying to put out the flames. But the fire was engulfing his flesh now, and he started to scream and flail around.

Gail grabbed Ricky by the hand and pulled him into the testing room, slamming the door behind them. They watched as Jason continued to scream, rampaging around the room.

"Gee, it's too bad we don't have a fire extinguisher," Gail quipped with savage glee. The sight was horrifying, but she was having a hard time mustering up any sympathy.

As the fire spread, Jason's flesh melted, and Ricky screwed up his face in horror. That was a terrible sight, and an even more terrible smell. He'd never lit a person on fire before. He supposed he'd committed a murder now. But he wasn't sorry. Not at all. Vampires were horrible creatures, and that guy had been about to bite the woman. She had been so nice to Ricky. He'd had to defend her, hadn't he?

After one or two more minutes, it was all over. Jason had been combusted, reduced to ashes and bits of bone. Gail moved slowly towards the door, easing it open. "Wow, is there ever a gap in my education," she said softly. "I thought you had to behead them."

Ricky was behind her now, looking down with wide, terrified eyes. "I'm a murderer," he said, dazed. "I didn't mean to - he was going to - "

Gail looked at him. Incredibly, there was a tear dribbling down his cheek. She took his hand impulsively. "I know, Ricky. Leave it to me. I'll explain that it was just an accident."

"What'll happen to my soul, when I die?" he asked her candidly. "I know that he was a terrible, horrible monster, but still, I've done murder."

She looked into his eyes. "Let's not worry about that right now. Let's just worry about getting out of this situation, first. But as far as your soul goes, let's just say: I know a guy." It was funny, really. Even though she was afraid of what Vincent's reaction would be to what had happened here, Gail still felt strangely jubilant. They had been due for a win, and as far as she was concerned, it couldn't have happened to a better individual.

"Let's have a seat," Gail said to Ricky. "It'll probably take a few minutes for somebody to get here. And, Ricky?"

"Yes?" he asked her in a trembling voice.

"Thank you," she said, and he smiled.

Vincent had been annoyed, but not nearly as angry as Gail had been afraid he would be. Truthfully, he'd felt a bit relieved, in a way. It had been a pain in the ass having a vampire around. The subjects had been scared of Jason, and the security footage showed that Jason had been about to sink his fangs into Gail's delicate little neck, contrary to Vincent's instructions to leave her be. Sure, the smartass bitch had made Jason angry, but she had been making Vincent angry all week and he hadn't blown her up, had he? Well, not yet, anyway.

Now the testing was going to take longer, though. Vincent deliberated, then decided to give half of the telekinetics to Dr. Roarke and the other half to Benoit. They would just have to multi-task.

Nevertheless, Vincent had been impressed with Ricky's potential. He'd briefly considered detonating the man just to prove a point, but common sense had prevailed. If he could harness that power of Ricky's, Vincent could just imagine all the enemies that he could vanquish, or cause to suffer. It had been a close call, though. When Ricky had gone spouting off to Gail about the ventilation system in his room, he'd nearly sealed his own death warrant, right then and there. But luckily, she had not seemed to make a connection. Still, just to be safe, Vincent arranged to have the sedation gas shut off in Ricky's room, just so Ricky would shut up about it. He couldn't have Gail putting two and two together.

Luckily, it seemed that his daughter had other things on her mind. Once he'd interrogated both her and Ricky about the incident and Ricky had been led back to his room, Gail asked to see Rob, and Vincent acquiesced. He didn't think it would hurt anything for her to see the kid. And logistically, he was down a new staff member. Appeasing her would ensure her further cooperation. And if she saw her nephew's puppy dog face and the red mark on his wrist up close and in person, Gail would be reminded why it was in her best interests to be a good girl.

When Gail walked into the testing room where Benoit was, she didn't bother giving her speech. The man was repugnant, of course, and so was everything he believed in, but she hadn't really had much to do with him personally when they had been in Paris, so she didn't really feel a personal animosity towards him, as she had with the others.

Besides, her attention was focused on Rob. He was sitting in a chair opposite Benoit. Rob's face lit up when he saw her. "Aunt Gail!" he exclaimed. He jumped up from his chair as Gail rushed forward.

Benoit stood up abruptly and positioned himself between the two, looking down at Gail. "Contact is forbidden," he said sternly.

Gail glared up at him. Didn't he mean "verboten", the rotten Nazi bastard? She took a deep breath and stepped back. "It's OK, Rob," she said to her nephew. "Have a seat. I'm hugging you with my mind."

Rob sank back into his chair. "Right back at you," he said, his lips twitching slightly. Rob was freaked out, but he had the comfort level of his psychic abilities. Therefore, he knew a few more things about their current situation than many of the other subjects did. There were varying levels of psychics here to be tested, but only a couple of them were at Rob's level.

As it was, Rob had known that Gail was safe, and that she was cooperating with Vincent to a certain extent to try to keep their dad from blowing up any more kids. Yeah, Rob knew about that, too, so he knew that Vincent wasn't just fooling around.

But it was so good to see Gail now. Just the sight of her gave him hope. He wished he could have been allowed to hug her, not only for the comfort it would have brought them both, but because he would have liked to have picked up more of her thoughts. But for now, it was good enough just to see her.

That was when Gail had taken the opportunity to use her Angel mojo on Benoit to search his pockets. Truthfully, she'd wondered if it was even going to work. There had been sigils at the other two test facilities. But she'd had to try. As soon as she had seen Rob's face, the first thing Gail had thought of was how frantic Frank and Jody would be for any news about him. She hadn't seen any sigils outside this room when she'd been led here by one of Vincent's flunkies. That didn't necessarily mean they weren't there, of course. But she'd gone ahead and tried, anyway.

When Gail had been able to use her powers on Benoit, it had occurred to her that somebody must have fallen down on the job. Why wouldn't there be sigils here? She could just...ohhhh. What if Vincent was testing her, to see what she would do? Was he expecting her to just grab Rob and pop out of there? Knowing the way Vincent's mind apparently worked, he might be. But there was no way she could do something like that. What about all of the other subjects?

She had snuck quickly out of the room to call Cas, and that had been where the real risk lay. If there were security cameras in the room, they would be trained to capture the central area of it, she was sure, which was where Benoit and Rob sat. If she moved just out of frame and quietly out the door, hopefully whoever might be watching would think she was still in the room.

So her call to Cas had been much more brief than she would have preferred, because Gail had been so concerned about being discovered. She hadn't even taken the time to give him the good news about Jason's demise. Although, to be fair, he hadn't really given her the chance, either.

But Gail had a few other things on her mind, as she replaced the cell phone in Benoit's pocket. When she had modified his memory, she had also picked up on a very interesting little bit of information: Benoit and Dr. Roarke were planning on going into business for themselves.

VIGNETTE - CALLING ALL MONSTERS

After the day's work was done, Benoit stepped outside the main building for a breath of fresh air, which somewhat ironically included lighting up a cigarette. About ten minutes later, Dr. Roarke joined him.

"So, it's agreed," Benoit said to the doctor. "By week's end, I'll have the list of the subjects that I want, and then you will transport them to Paris. Then we will turn our reports in, including the false ones for the top prospects, and then we will leave here. If we siphon only the few with the greatest powers, he will probably not even notice that they are gone. Then, you will join my organization. I will give you free rein to do as many experiments as you please on the subjects that we mutually decide are acceptable. But, even though I will have the honourary title of der Fuhrer, I do not expect you to kowtow to me, as this man Vincent expects of us. In fact, the only reason I agreed to join him here was because I was interested in the vast potential of these test subjects, for the purposes of rebuilding my organization."

Dr. Roarke nodded. When the two men had first come here and made each other's acquaintance, they had discovered that they had a fair amount of things in common. Both men were mature, and had experienced many things. And both had a cold, dispassionate approach to the pain and suffering of others.

Roarke knew what kind of an organization Benoit was asking him to join, of course. But once he had made his decision in giving Castiel that first injection, there could be no turning back for him. He had been fascinated by the effects that the systematic introduction of his formula into Castiel's vessel's bloodstream had produced. But the shots had been curtailed before the total transformation of Castiel's personality had taken place, so the doctor hadn't gotten to see the end result of his experiment. It was sort of like reading a really good mystery novel and then getting to the part where they were about to reveal the identity of the killer, only to find that the last few pages of the book were missing. He had to find out how the book ended. He had to carry it all the way through this time.

So the two of them had struck up a diabolical "Gentleman's" agreement to rebuild Les Rebelles Blancs from the ground up, using Vincent's most talented progeny as secret weapons. But, they were going to leave Gail and her group alone. Benoit had had enough of them. They had taken everything he had built up over the years and destroyed it in a matter of minutes, and when the smoke from the clubhouse had cleared, Benoit and Kurt had been the last men standing. And then, shortly thereafter, Kurt had been murdered, and his killer had never been brought to justice. All of his plans, ruined, because of two Angels, two humans, and two men of an inferior race, Benoit thought with utter disgust.

Yes, Benoit held firm to his beliefs that the white race was the superior race, and no one was ever going to convince him otherwise. In the few years since he had lost it all, the political climate in his part of the world had slowly started to change, and it seemed like the time might be right for the proverbial phoenix to rise out of the ashes left by the explosion at their former headquarters. Society seemed to be splitting into two factions these days, with very few moderates left. His country's politics reflected that fact, as did the governing bodies of many European nations. That was how Benoit had managed to maneuver himself into a viable candidate for the Presidency of his country. The destruction of Les Rebelles Blancs had turned out to have a silver lining, after all. With everyone dead and no physical evidence left to connect Benoit to the white supremacy group, there were no visible skeletons in his closet. He had come through the background check and media scrutiny with flying colours. And, he was a very wealthy man. His campaign funds were virtually unlimited. The Juden had had many treasures to surrender to Benoit's ancestors; voluntarily, or otherwise.

But as experienced as Benoit was at appearing to be a sane, respectable businessman, he had never been able to convince people in mainstream society that immigrants were a menace. That was why his group had only been able to attract fringe types before, and possibly why Benoit had deigned to let Cas and his friends join in the first place. The people he was cultivating now were like him: calm and professional on the outside, but racist as hell underneath. If Benoit managed to achieve the leadership of his country, he had a grand plan in mind, a plan that was going to make his previous plans look like child's play. For the first time in ages, Benoit felt that the elimination of all but the Aryan race was a very achievable goal.

Benoit crushed out his cigarette and the men entered the building, going their separate ways.


	4. I've Got A Secret

Chapter 4 - I've Got A Secret

Nietzsche once said that hope, in reality, was the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torture of man.

Cas could definitely relate to that statement. It had taken several more days, but he had finally heard from Gail again. She had sounded a lot more relaxed this time, and she had good news. Or, so she deemed it.

"The testing's almost finished," she told him happily. "Vincent says he's going to let us all go before the end of the week."

Cas had been incredulous. "And you trust that he's telling the truth?"

"Of course," she said, "and he trusts me completely now, too. In fact, he gave me this cell phone, to call you guys and let you know that we're fine. And, Cas? You're never going to guess: Rob has a twin brother! His name is Eric, and he's here with us. He can teleport, and is he ever good at it! Just like you and me. The only problem is he's so strong that he overshoots his goal, sometimes. Maybe you can work with him on that. Anyway, I persuaded Vincent to bring them together, and they're even staying in the same suite now, getting to know each other. He lives in Florida, but we're going to have to see if we can persuade him to move to Kansas after this is all over."

Cas was nearly speechless by now. Gail was speaking as if they were all on a holiday, or something. "If Vincent is going to release you all safely, then what was the point of this whole thing?" he asked her in a strained voice.

"You're going to find this hard to believe," she told him, still talking in that cheerful tone. It was starting to worry him a great deal. Gail laughed. "Actually, maybe you won't. He was incredibly honest. He plans to find the Book of the Dead, and when he does, he plans to call forward the ones who tested the highest here. Then he's going to summon an army of bloodthirsty undead, and take over...everything. At least, that's what he told me. Doesn't that sound like the plot of a really bad zombie movie?"

Cas was frowning deeply. No, it didn't, not to him. He'd seen what one page of the Book of Life could do. It didn't seem farfetched at all to him.

"You know, he's crazy, but he's treated me like gold," Gail continued. "He did ask me if we would consider visiting him in the Caribbean sometime, and I told him we would think about it."

Cas was astonished. Now she was talking about a happy family reunion. Vincent had clearly brainwashed her in some way. "Of course we could have visited him there," Cas said in his quiet voice, "if he were to be leaving that compound alive. But, sadly for him, he will not."

Incredibly, Gail laughed softly. "He said you would say that. But then, you know what he said to tell you?"

"What?" Cas said through clenched teeth.

"He said that if you let him go back to the Caribbean unharmed, he's got a meeting scheduled with his two direct rivals for the Books. He called it a 'summit meeting'. Said the meeting had been arranged a while back. And guess who the meeting is with? Raguel and Ammit! Just think, Cas! We could have all three of them there, at the same time!"

Cas's mind was working furiously now. If Vincent was telling the truth about that, and that was a big if, why would he welcome their presence at such a meeting? Perhaps he wanted his rivals eliminated, and he didn't have enough power to do it. The idea was very appealing to Cas, though. Imagine having their three most formidable enemies all in one place, at the same time. Not that killing them would be easy, of course. But still, the lure was all but irresistible.

There would be a catch, however. There was always a catch in these types of situations. Vincent could not be trusted. What worried Cas most of all at this particular moment, though, was the apparent fact that Gail thought he could be.

"I have to go now, Cas," Gail said. "We've been really busy the past couple of days. Vincent had a deadline of this weekend to finish the testing. Of course, that was when we had three testers. With Jason gone, we've had to multi-task. But I told him if we really push, we can still make it."

"Jason's gone?" Cas interjected. "Where did he go?" He was thoroughly disconcerted now. Her use of the word "we" was extremely troubling to him, as was the fact that she was talking as if she was an employee of a firm, and not a captive in a compound being run by an evil madman.

"Hell, I imagine," she answered cheerfully. "He's dead, Cas. It serves him right, too, the evil, blood-sucking bastard. I hope you don't do that anymore, Cas. I don't like it, and neither does Ricky. He killed Jason when he tried to do it to me, and if he sees you trying to bite my neck like you used to do all the time, he might just kill you, too."

Now, Cas was really scared. Vincent had definitely brainwashed Gail, to the extent that she was not only cooperative, but now, she was referring to what had arguably been the most heinous of Cas's imaginary acts during their shared Demon delusion. But none of that had ever happened, and Gail knew that. So why was she talking about it as if it had been real?

"I have to go, Cas. I'll call you when you're allowed to come," Gail said, and she abruptly hung up.

Wow. That had been hard. Gail tossed the phone casually on the coffee table. She smiled, aware that the security cameras were on. They were always on. But, she believed that her performance should be enough to convince her father, if he was watching. Poor Cas, though. He must be so confused. She had tried to plant a clue in the things that she had said, about him biting her neck, but she wondered if he would pick up on it, throughout all of the confusion.

She had figured out why she'd been having those strange visions of Cas as a Demon. It had taken her a while, but eventually, Gail had gotten it.

It had all started when she and Dr. Roarke had been testing Ricky. Gail had asked for and received some fire extinguishers this time, and she'd had one at the ready. But Ricky had been able to hit the mannequins that had been set up in the test labs with no mishaps. And even though the implications of lighting something that resembled a human being on fire were disturbing, Gail couldn't help but smile at Ricky's proud expression.

"I've never been able to do that before!" he'd said with a delighted smile. "Thank you, Gail!"

"What are you thanking ME for?" she asked him, putting the fire extinguisher down.

"For helping me to focus," Ricky replied.

"How did I do that?" she asked him curiously, helping him off with the halter that held the machine that measured the core temperature of his body.

"Because you insisted on being here in the room with me," Ricky replied earnestly. "I didn't want anything to happen to you, Gail. You're the only one here who's been nice to me."

"Do you think we could get this done today?" Dr. Roarke said irritably. "We've got at least a dozen more to go."

"Keep your stethoscope on," Gail said sassily, as she and Ricky smiled at each other.

"Oh, and thanks for whatever you did to fix my room," Ricky continued. "It doesn't smell funny anymore, and I feel more wide-awake, too."

"I won't tell you again to hurry it along," Dr. Roarke said in a clipped tone.

"Oh, shut up, Mengele," Gail said under her breath. She was fumbling with the last buckle now. But suddenly, she froze.

"Here, let me help you with that, so he doesn't yell at you again," Ricky said in a low voice, frowning.

As Ricky undid the buckle, Gail's mind was working furiously. The air vents in Ricky's room...a smell...Mengele...They were gassing her with something! That had to be it. She took the halter off of Ricky and started to walk towards the door of the testing room. Ricky rushed to open the door for her.

Gail handed the apparatus to Dr. Roarke wordlessly. That would explain so much. There could be no other reason for her to be having those kinds of thoughts about Cas. Absolutely none. And she had been a lot more receptive to Vincent lately, too. They were brainwashing her. Those bastards were brainwashing her!

"I'll see you later, Gail," Ricky said affably, exiting the lab.

"Yeah, 'later, Ricky," she said absently, waving goodbye to him.

The bastards were brainwashing her, Gail thought angrily as Dr. Roarke buzzed for the next subject to be sent in. But she'd better not let on that she had any inkling of what was going on. Let them think that she was still in the dark. Maybe someone would drop their guard around her if they thought that she was becoming fully compliant. The thing was, if she kept returning to her suite every night, she would just keep on being exposed to the stuff. She may be an Angel, but her vessel still needed to breathe.

"If we're behind schedule, we can keep working, if you want," Gail said to Dr. Roarke. "Let's face it; neither one of us has to eat or sleep."

He looked at her for a moment. "That's a good idea," he said, nodding. "I will tell Vincent that you suggested it."

"You know what? I'm actually kind of enjoying the work," Gail said to him. "I don't think there's any need to involve him."

Roarke nodded expressionlessly again, but he was pleased by what she was saying. He had noticed by her general demeanour that she had been growing more compliant every day. He hadn't been sure if his formula would work in distilled form, so this was good news, indeed. Benoit would also be very interested in the results, Roarke knew. It was his partnership with the Frenchman that was prompting the feeling of urgency now. Within the next couple of days, the two of them were going to compare notes and choose the subjects they wanted to spirit away to Europe, after submitting unfavourable test results on those very same subjects to Vincent. Presumably, then, he would be none the wiser.

A girl in her late 20s entered the room next, proceeding automatically to the table that was set up on the opposite side of the room to where the Angels were standing.

"Psychic," Dr. Roarke told Gail perfunctorily, but she was already looking through the files. They were winnowing down the prospects now, seeing only the ones who had shown the most promise. She recognized this girl. What was her name, again?

"I'm Callie. Subject 51," the young girl said to them. "Are we reading cards again?"

"No," Dr. Roarke said, making a sudden decision as Gail pulled Callie's file. "This time, we're going to see if you can read someone."

"Oh, goodie," Callie said, sitting back in her chair. "The cards were boring, anyway. Too easy."

Gail came towards the table, holding Callie's file. She flipped it open and stood over the girl, pen poised.

"Can you read anything about Gail right now?" Dr. Roarke asked the psychic.

"She owes her brother a favour," Callie answered promptly.

Damn right I do, Gail thought to herself. I owe Frank a live son after all of this is over, and I intend to see that he gets one. But she looked at Dr. Roarke now, giving him a half-shrug. "Well, I do have a brother," Gail said vaguely.

"Let her take your hand," Roarke said to Gail. "Perhaps we'll get a better reading that way."

Gail put the clipboard down on the table, offering her hand to Callie. But just before the girl took it, Gail felt a moment of panic. Crap! That would be just what she needed; to be found out just when she had figured out what was going on. She pictured Cas in her mind, as Callie took her hand. His handsome face, his smile, his beautiful blue eyes...

"Wow, that guy's good-looking," Callie remarked. "Is that your husband?"

"Yes," Gail replied, smiling.

Dr. Roarke frowned. That was hardly proof of psychic ability.

"But his eyes are kind of a funny colour," Callie went on. "I thought they were blue, but now I'm seeing them as purple."

Interesting, Roarke thought, and it was even more interesting to see Gail jerk her hand away from the young psychic's.

"Fine. Good," Gail said in a clipped tone. "Test passed. You can go, now."

Callie looked at the doctor inquiringly. After a moment, he nodded to the young psychic. "You heard her. You can go," he confirmed. The girl shrugged. Fine by her. She rose from her chair and crossed the room, letting herself out into the corridor. "Next," she told the escort. He walked off in the other direction towards the holding area as Callie made her way through the maze and into the living quarters.

She knocked on Vincent's door, and he opened it a second later.

"Hey, who's the psychic here, you, or me?" Callie said lightly, entering the suite.

"I was just so anxious to see you that I was waiting right by the door," Vincent said charmingly. He closed the door behind them and grabbed her. "I hope you were just as anxious to see me." He kissed her on the lips using his tongue, and she responded eagerly.

"How's the testing going?" Vincent asked her after a minute or so. His hands were under her top now, and he was caressing the skin just under her breasts. The young ones were always so firm.

"It's a piece of cake," she said, smiling. She pressed her body against his. "I was there less than five minutes."

"That's because they know real talent when they see it," Vincent murmured. His hands were on her rear end now, and she was rubbing her body against his crotch. He liked it when they were bold like that. It saved so much time and effort when you didn't have to woo them. But he'd known as soon as he'd seen Callie that she was good to go, and as always, he'd been right.

"It was funny. That doctor guy had me read your daughter," Callie said, starting to unbutton his shirt.

Vincent had been about to undo her pants, but he stopped. "Oh?" he said in a casual tone. "And could you do it?"

"Of course. She was easy," Callie said, still working the buttons.

Like you, you simple-headed, bleached blonde bimbo, Vincent thought savagely. But he wasn't worried. His thoughts were blocked from her. He never let anyone read him unless he wanted them to. He waited a second, but she didn't elaborate, so his hands closed on hers, squeezing painfully for a second.

"And? What did you see?" Vincent said with an edge to his voice.

"I saw a man with a beard, in a black suit," Callie responded. "She owes him a favour. Her brother, I think."

Vincent's hand crushed hers for a second, and she whimpered. "Did you tell HER that?" he asked her, raising his voice. "Did you tell her what he looks like?"

Callie was confused. "No, of course not. Shouldn't she know what her own brother looks like? I just said she owes her brother a favour. Vincent, you're hurting me!"

He eased up. "Sorry."

"That was without any contact, too," Callie bragged. "But, the doctor wasn't satisfied with it, I guess, 'cause he had me hold her hand."

Vincent let go of Callie, before he crushed the bones in her hand. The stupid bitch. "Yeah?" he said, still using his casual voice. "And? What did you get?"

"She was thinking about her husband," Callie replied, smiling. "He's a good-looking guy, too, like you are. I guess she's got a type. But, it was kind of funny. At first, I thought his eyes were blue, but then, they looked kind of purple. She seemed pretty freaked out when I said that."

Vincent smiled. "I'll just bet she was," he said happily. He reached down and grabbed Callie's hand, putting it on his crotch. "That's my good girl," he murmured. "Good job."

"Don't you want to know what else she was thinking about?" Callie asked him.

Vincent let out a frustrated breath. Why did the young, buxom ones always have to be the stupidest? "Ummmm...yeah," he said dryly.

"She thinks you're brainwashing her," Callie said, rolling her eyes. "Can you imagine?"

Vincent stepped away from her, grabbing her roughly by the arms. "What?!" he exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me that first thing, you stupid little slut?"

"Because I thought it was ridiculous!" she yelled. "She's your daughter, and she's working for you, isn't she?"

"Tell me EXACTLY what she was thinking," he said through clenched teeth. His fingers dug into her arms, scratching her. Scratching her? But, he kept his fingernails trimmed short. Callie looked down. Vincent's hands had transformed into claws. "Tell me!" he bellowed in her face, willing himself not to change. The claws retracted, but his grip was still painful.

Callie was trembling now. "She was thinking about somebody named Mengele, pumping poison gas into her room! She's going to try and fool you into thinking that she was brainwashed!"

Vincent was enraged. Dammit! Roarke had told him that she would never know. "Is that everything?" he asked Callie, shaking her like a rag doll.

"Yes!" she wailed.

"Good," Vincent said. He let go of her arms, snapped his fingers, and she fell to his feet, dead.

"Damn bitch," he muttered. It was unclear whether he was talking about Callie, or Gail. Probably both. He took a deep, cleansing breath. Okay. OK. If his daughter wanted to play, he could play.

He kicked Callie's body aside. He'd deal with that later. He let himself out of his suite.

"This is amazing," Sam said, closing one file and then opening another. In their fear and horror about the situation at the compound, they had all forgotten about the files Cas had sent to the bunker's storage room from Abigail's basement. Once Sam had finally remembered, he'd headed there and moved the boxes to the library table, and he was studying them now.

"Whatever else you can say about Cathy, she was definitely organized," Sam told the others. "She's got these files colour-coded into three categories: psychics, teleporters, and telekinetics."

"Telekinetics? What's that, again?" Frank wanted to know. He was watching Sam avidly, hungry for any kind of information they could get.

"It's people who can move things with their minds, right?" Dean asked his brother.

"That's part of it," Sam said, "but there's a lot more to it than that. There's one guy here who can allegedly start fires with his mind."

"Well, we've seen weirder," Dean remarked.

"He starts fires with his mind?" Jody exclaimed. "And he's there, at the compound?"

Sam frowned. "That's just it. These are the files from Cathy's office. We have no way of knowing which of these people are there. It could be some of them, or it could be all of them."

"So you're telling me that there could be a guy there right now who's a human flamethrower, and he's around live explosives?!" Jody exclaimed.

Suddenly, Cas appeared. "We have a problem," he announced.

"Geez, Cas, you think?" Dean said sarcastically.

Frank let out a frustrated breath. "What is it now, Cas?"

Cas explained as much as he could about Gail's call, except for the inexplicable comment she had made about him biting her neck. "He's got her brainwashed, somehow," he told them.

"Great. Like we don't have enough to worry about," Frank fumed.

Cas's cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket.

"Hi'ya, Cas. I've missed you," Vincent said cheerfully. "What's new? What'cha doing?"

"What do you want?" Cas said tersely.

"Are you there with the fam right now?" Vincent inquired.

"Yes, I'm at the bunker," Cas replied.

"Good. Put the phone on Speaker. I want to talk to everybody," Vincent said. "Who's there?"

Cas put the phone on Speaker as ordered, laying it down on the table. "Frank and Jody are here, and Sam and Dean," he told Vincent. "That's all, at the moment."

"So, just the immediate family," Vincent said. "Good. Terrific. You asked me what I want? Here's what I want: All five of you to go to that weapons room you've got there, arm yourselves, and then come here. It occurred to me that I haven't really given you guys a fair shake. I thought for sure you'd be here every day, Cas, with an army of Angels, or Frank, with those Winchesters, guns blazing. Or, I thought that Bobby or Jody would call in the FBI, and we'd have another Waco on our hands. But you've all done the smart thing, and the right thing, and left me alone. So I'm going to extend the olive branch. I'll allow one of you to come inside when you all get here, to look around the facilities and verify that the kids are all OK. How would that be?"

"I will come inside," Cas volunteered immediately, but Vincent clucked his tongue. "Sorry, Cas, but you're out," he said. "Gail doesn't want it to be you. I don't know what you did to piss her off, but she's got a 'thing' about men right now. Anytime one of us even comes near her, she freaks out. I'll tell you what: Why don't YOU come in, Jody? I'm sure you're anxious to see your son. Did you know he has a twin brother? Sorry; listen to me, I'm babbling. Have you had any hostage negotiation training, Jody?"

She frowned. "Yes, I've had some."

"Good," Vincent said affably. "I still maintain that this isn't exactly a hostage situation, any more than looking after your own kids is 'babysitting'. Am I right, Frank?"

"I don't know, Vince," Frank shot back angrily. "I don't usually plant explosives in my kids, even if they don't go to bed when I say so."

Vincent laughed. "All right. Fair enough. Anyway, if Jody can hostage-negotiate me successfully, I'll release everybody, even the duds, and give myself up. How's that?"

They were all staring at each other, incredulous looks on their faces. Yeah, right. Still, this was progress. At least they could make sure their loved ones were okay, and once they were there, they could try to figure something out.

"Take about half an hour to get ready," Vincent said with good humour. "You'll need to talk about my ulterior motive for a few minutes, and how you're going to deal with me, right, Cas? Not to mention what's up with your wife. See you soon, folks." He hung up abruptly.

"What the hell is WRONG with that guy?" Frank asked the others.

"He obviously likes to play around with people," Sam remarked, tight-jawed. "He can't honestly expect us to believe that he's just gonna give himself up."

"Come on, Frank," Dean said, rising from his chair. "He said we should come armed, so let's come armed. Let's load up."

As Frank followed Dean down the hall to the weapons room, Jody sat back in her chair, frowning. "What did he mean by 'the duds'?" she mused aloud.

"The ones who are underperforming, I guess," Sam said uncomfortably.

"Yeah, but why would he just let them go, Sam?" Jody argued. "From a law enforcement standpoint, that makes no sense."

"Do you think a guy like that cares about law enforcement, Jodes?" Sam asked her rhetorically. "Say if he lets some hostages go, and they go to the cops? And say if the cops believe them, by some miracle? What would they be able to do to him? Lock him up? How long's a jail gonna hold him, Cas?"

"Probably about as long as it would hold me," Cas said absently. He was thinking furiously now. What approach would work on this man? He highly doubted that any of the weapons they had here would have an effect on Vincent. Cas had even tried to smite him, and he had only succeeded in causing Vincent a modicum of pain. But if a Godly smiting could not kill him, then what could?

"I'm hungry," Rob told Eric, elbowing his brother.

"You're always hungry," Eric said, rolling his eyes. Then, he grinned. "But, now that you mention it, so am I. Let's go make a sandwich, or something."

"Never mind A sandwich; let's make three. Each," Rob said, grinning. "I'll race you to the kitchen."

As soon as the young men got to the kitchen, Rob made a beeline for the fridge. "Get the bread and the plates," he instructed his brother. "I'll look and see what we've got left. If we have to, we can ask Gail to get us some more ham and cheese, or whatever's in the main kitchen."

Rob yanked the fridge door open, taking the notepad and pen out of his pocket. He wrote a quick note to Eric and left it on the top shelf. Then he took some lunch meat and the mustard out of the fridge, leaving the door hanging open.

"What are you doing? You know I like mayo," Eric chided Rob.

"Hey, give me a break," Rob said good-naturedly. "I just found out you existed a few days ago."

Eric laughed. He went to the fridge and picked up Rob's note, reading it quickly and stuffing it in his pocket. Then he grabbed the jar of mayonnaise and closed the fridge door. The brothers had found out that that was a blind spot for the security cameras. As soon as the fridge door was opened, the camera in the corner was blocked by it. Luckily, they were two growing young men, so frequent trips to the fridge were considered a normal state of affairs.

Gail had orchestrated the meeting between the two, and she had also been behind the request to allow them to room together. And because she had been so deferential and helpful to Vincent, he had granted the favour. That was before the unfortunate Callie had told him that Gail was faking it, of course. But the brothers had been happier and more cooperative since they had been roommates too, so Vincent had decided to leave the pair be.

It had been freaky for Rob to meet Eric. His twin brother, a guy who looked like him, and yet didn't. They were different in more ways than they were alike, but they had one very important thing in common: they wanted to get everybody the hell out of here, safe and sound.

But Big Brother was everywhere, no pun intended. So they had instituted this communications system, once they'd found out about it. Gail had sweet-talked her way into the surveillance room one day under the guise of giving a couple of flunkies there a smoke break, and she'd been watching Rob and Eric in their suite. It did her heart good to see how they were bonding. And then, she'd noticed it. The blind spot.

As soon as she'd discovered the blind spot, Gail had used the care and feeding of her nephews as an excuse to rustle up some more food for them in the compound's main kitchen. Then, as she was putting some of those food items in the fridge, she had left them a note, instituting their covert communications system.

The note that Rob had left Eric today made his brother's pulse race. It hadn't taken him long to scribble it, because it consisted of only three words: "It's happening today".

Cas popped the five of them to the yard at the compound, where he had appeared when he'd first come here. "Stay alert," he warned everyone. They all had weapons at the ready, not knowing exactly what to expect.

A minute later, the metal door creaked open and Vincent came out, holding Rob in front of him as a shield. He had one hand around the young man's throat, and the other one was out of the group's sight.

"Good to see everybody," Vincent said casually. Frank took a half-step forward, and Vincent looked at him sharply. "No sudden moves there, Daddy-O. If anybody tries anything, I'll just snap Master Robert's scrawny little chicken neck. Honestly, you guys, you've gotta start feeding him more. He and his brother, both. They're like bottomless pits. If you let Eric move in with you, Jody, you might have to make Frank get a paying job, just to pay the grocery bills. Or, since you seem to want to wear the penis in the family, Frank could put on a frilly apron and take cooking lessons. Still, Frank, I guess I owe you one, for taking such good care of my daughter for all those years. Gail's a great little assistant."

"I wouldn't have had to take care of her all those years if you hadn't killed our parents," Frank said angrily.

"YOUR parents, Frank," Vincent corrected him. "Your parents. Not Gail's. Still, look at you, being all Father of the Year material," he continued, his face breaking into a smile. Now he was looking down at Rob. "I guess young Robert here told you about that, didn't he? He's got quite the gift, I've gotta say. If I were you and Jody, I might line your bedroom with lead, though, so he can't see what the two of you are doing in there. Yech. Nobody wants to see us old folks do that kind of junk, am I right, Rob? Although, come to think of it, they're probably not as...carnally adventurous now, shall we say, since Jody had her surgery. But, I'm not gonna go there. I'd have to be some kind of a monster to make fun of a woman with breast cancer, wouldn't I, Rob?" Vincent shook the frightened young man by the neck, smiling grotesquely as he did it. "I love women," Vincent went on affably. "You'll be seeing the proof of that fact in a minute, Jody. I've got dozens of children inside this compound, and dozens more that aren't here. That should be proof that I've loved as many women as I could, right? How's that for a quip, Frank? Ba-dum-bum. Gail credits you for her quick wit, by the way. I don't know whether to thank you, or kill you." Vincent laughed.

Then he looked at Sam and Dean. "Hey, Winchesters! Remember me? I guess we sorta got off on the wrong foot, didn't we? Or hand, eh, Sam? I guess I kind of made you look bad in front of your girlfriend, though, didn't I, Sam? Oh, and in front of Quinn, too." Vincent laughed his high-pitched laugh, the one that was almost like a giggle. It would sound like the laugh of a madman, if he weren't completely sane, Sam thought. And that might be the scariest thing about the guy.

"Sorry, Cas," Vincent went on. "I guess I kind of zinged YOU with that one, too. I dunno, Big Guy. I'd rethink that annulment, if I were you. If you dissolve the marriage now, you might not ever get her back. I don't know what you did, Cas, but you must have really pissed her off. She said something about being tired of you hurting her. She's seriously considering staying with me, you know."

"You know what? You just love to hear yourself talk, don't you?" Dean said angrily. "You're worse than that guy with the barbed-wire bat on that zombie show."

Vincent continued to smile. "Zombie show, you say? I'll have to check that out. Sounds like my kind of show. But I'll give you your point, Dean. I am babbling, aren't I? Come on in, Jody. I'll show you around, and then we can start the negotiations. Okie-dokie?"

Jody holstered the gun she'd been holding and stepped forward slowly, waiting to see if Vincent would tell her to take it off. But he didn't; he just stood there waiting, still holding Rob by the neck, like Ricky's mother had held her live chickens. Jody still couldn't see Vincent's other hand, so she was assuming that he held a weapon back there. At the police academy, they'd always said to expect the worst. As she edged forward, Frank caught her by the arm.

"Please be careful," he said to his wife. "Come back safe, OK? You guys are my whole life."

"Awwww," Vincent said sarcastically. "What a very loving, touching moment that was. I hate touching moments. Now I might just have to kill a couple of kids, just to get the taste of sweetness out of my mouth."

"You son of a bitch!" Dean yelled at Vincent, prompting him to smile again. "You're a sexy beast, aren't you?" Vincent taunted Dean. "I bet the women just love you, and your big, hard gun. And that's not just a euphemism, is it? What's that you're holding there? A Glock? Very impressive. But you might as well put it away. You can't kill me with anything you've got in that weapons room of yours, so stand down, handsome. Come on, Jody. Shake a leg."

Jody moved closer to where he was still standing, holding onto Rob, and then Vincent snapped his fingers and the trio disappeared.

As soon as they were inside the compound, Vincent let go of Rob. "Sorry for the dramatics," he said to mother and son. "It was for Rob's protection, really. I didn't want one of those macho guys to open fire on us. They might have hit Rob by mistake, or detonated the chip in his arm. Even I don't know how volatile those things are. It's European technology, so if their cars are any indication..." He looked at Jody, but she showed no reaction. Damn. Maybe he should have brought her husband, instead. Frank looked like he would appreciate a good car joke. But, no. Jody was the only logical choice. She was the only one of that group who would use restraint.

They got to Rob and Eric's room, and Vincent knocked once on the door, then let himself in with his keycard. Gail and Eric were standing there, waiting. As soon as they'd entered the room, Vincent gestured expansively. "Go ahead. Hugs, all around," he said magnanimously.

Rob rushed to hug Jody, and she wrapped her arms around her son. "Are you OK?" Jody asked him, pulling out of the embrace to look closely at his face.

"I'm fine, Mom," he said, touching her cheek with his hand. "I promise."

Jody's gaze strayed to his wrist. The skin was a little red there, but that was all she could see.

"Easy now, Jody," Vincent said softly. "I see where you're looking. Remember your training. No sudden moves. And no lunging for her weapon, boys. Save it for the movies."

Gail approached Jody now. The two women stood close together, but they didn't embrace. Jody wasn't really much of a hugger, and Gail was still playing her role.

"Hey, Mom. This is Eric. My brother," Rob said, gesturing to the young man. Eric walked over to where they were standing. "Hi," he said, a little shyly. Wow. He had just gotten used to the idea of having a twin brother, and now he was finding out that there was a whole big extended family, as part of the package.

"Good to meet you, Eric," Jody said, placing her hand on the boy's shoulder. Then she looked at Gail. "How are you?" Gail's sister-in-law asked her. "Cas is worried sick."

Gail's heart sank. Crap. But Vincent was here, and she had to continue the ruse, for the time being. "Is he?" she said coolly. "That's unfortunate. Tell him if he wants a punching bag, he should use the one in your basement. My feet still hurt from the last so-called foot rub he gave me. He knows how much I hate those. You go out there and tell him that, Jody. I want him to know I said that."

Jody was staring at her. Her first thought was that Gail was indeed brainwashed. Cas, using Gail as a punching bag? Since when? As if he would ever lay one single finger on Gail that way. And that crack about her feet? What the - ? Wait a minute. Now Jody got it.

"You know what?" Vincent said suddenly. "I've changed my mind. I think that message is vitally important for you to deliver. I don't want God getting too big for his Holy britches out there. You don't care about a tour, do you, Jody? You can see that your little family is safe. That's really what you came in to see. So, let's you and I go back outside and start the negotiating. I don't want to leave those guys out there by themselves for too long. They might get ideas."

Jody reached her hand out to Rob, but Vincent said, "Uh-uh. Sorry, Jody. The boys stay here with Gail. I don't want any distractions. Just me, thee, and the men." He looked down at Gail. "Stay here until I send for you."

"Will do," she said to him. "Come on, guys, let's find something to watch on TV."

Jody looked on incredulously as Gail steered the two young men away. Wow. She was either brainwashed, or she was a very good actress. Jody had come in here expecting the former, but now, she was pretty sure that it was the latter.

Vincent snapped himself and Jody outside. "Everybody's fine," Jody confirmed to the men, "but when all this is over, we're going to have to have a talk, Cas." She told him what Gail had said, verbatim.

Cas was horrified. How could Gail say such things? Was she back in the throes of the Demon delusion? He looked around at the others. Surely they didn't think...Then, he felt like smacking himself on the head. She was sending him the signal. Gail loved the foot massages Cas gave her. For her to say what she had was the red flag he had been hoping for.

"Let's talk," Vincent said to the group, grinning.

"Let's make you guys a snack, first," Gail said quickly, the instant Vincent popped Jody out. The three of them hurried to the kitchen, and Gail opened the fridge door, pretending to look inside. "I want to look at the food," she announced for the benefit of whoever might be watching and listening. "I know I don't eat any more, but sometimes, I just like to look."

As she was talking, Gail was multi-tasking. She took the strips of gauze she had stolen from the test lab out of one pocket, and the letter opener she had lifted from Benoit's desk drawer out of the other. She screwed up her face, held her breath, and dug the letter opener into her arm, where the red mark was. Fortunately, the thing was sharp, but...Ouch! The thing was sharp! She poked around as delicately as she could, lifting the square chip out with the tip of the letter opener. Holy crap, that hurt. It was flat; about the size of a razor blade. She'd really been hoping that Vincent had been lying about the chips. It would have been so much easier. But when they'd worked out the plan, she had agreed to go first, just to see. She plucked the thing out of the bloody mess, placing it in the fridge. Then she wrapped her wrist tightly with the gauze to contain the bleeding, leaving the letter opener and the other bandaging in the fridge. She moved away from the door, putting pressure on the wound, trying to hide her arm from the security camera as best she could.

"OK, you guys. Take whatever you want out of there, and when you have your snacks, we'll go pick a movie," she said, maintaining the ruse.

"Me first," Rob said, passing her on the way to the fridge. They exchanged a brief glance. Gail's heart sank. This was going to be hard on the boys. Gail had, unfortunately, had a lot of experience being cut by blades, and she had of necessity toughened up over the years. They had decided she should go first because if there was a chip there, and she messed up somehow, she was already an Angel. It was still unclear to her exactly how that might work, but even if her vessel was blown to bits, it was possible that her essence might survive in some form. Who knew? Not too long ago, when she had been dead, she had been in Heaven, then in Hell, and then in the Netherworld. She'd figured it was a gamble worth taking. Better her than the boys.

But now that she had successfully performed the very painful chip-ectomy, Gail had started an irrevocable chain. Hopefully, she had thought of everything, because if this didn't work like it should, they were all screwed. But she'd had to try something. Anything. The longer they were here, the more frightened she had become. Vincent made it sound like he was just simply going to throw the doors open at the end of the testing process and let everybody go home, back to their regular lives, as if none of this had ever happened. But Vincent couldn't be trusted, and Gail had known for a while now that they had to take matters into their own hands.

Rob was cutting into his wrist now, and he was trying to be stoic about it, but it hurt like crazy. He tried picturing his Dad or Dean doing the same thing. They wouldn't wail and cry like a little baby, would they? And look at his Mom. She'd even had a body part cut off, and look how strong she'd been about it. But holy crap, did it ever hurt. He started to whimper, but he kept going. He wasn't about to let his family or all the other people here down. That was what being a Hunter was all about. Doing the right thing, even if it was scary. Even if it hurt like a son of a bitch, as his Uncle Dean would say.

"Dammit! I broke the ketchup bottle, Aunt Gail!" Rob exclaimed.

Huh? She looked over to where Rob was standing, and then she realized: there was blood on the floor. Wow. Her admiration for her nephew grew. He must be in terrible pain right now, yet he'd had the presence of mind to improvise like that.

Eric grabbed a towel. "Here, I'll clean that up. You're so clumsy, Rob." He moved to the fridge, looking at his brother. Rob was wrapping the gauze around his arm, grimacing. He'd managed to get the stupid thing out, but...man. His respect for his Aunt Gail had just gone up considerably. She hadn't even made a sound when she'd done it. Boy, the women in his family sure were tough.

But Rob had been successful too, and now, as he moved towards Gail, he said, "There's nothing good in there to eat. I'm sick of sandwiches."

Gail glanced at Eric. He was multi-tasking too, cutting the chip out of his arm with the letter opener while mopping up the blood with his feet. She was amazed. If they all survived this latest ordeal, Gail was going to have to tell everyone how brave these young men had been.

"I'll tell you what, you guys," she said, watching Eric wrap the gauze around his arm. Wow. He hadn't even blinked an eye. "Vincent told me, if you guys were good, I could take you to the kitchen and get you a hot meal. Come with me, and I'll fix you up."

Eric closed the fridge door, and the three of them hurried out of the suite. This was one of the riskier elements of the plan. Presumably, the guys who had been watching wouldn't think anything of it. The only wrinkle could be if they were picked up on one of the other cameras, caught zigging when they should be zagging. Ever since Gail had begun to cooperate with Vincent, he had given her more and more autonomy around the compound. And she knew from her brief trips to the surveillance room that the men there were about as witless and complacent as the Demon guards in Hell had been. Whatever Roarke had done to Vincent's minions to make them obedient had worked all too well, it seemed. She didn't think they would really be paying that close attention.

So, instead of heading down the corridor that led to the kitchen, the trio forked left, heading towards the staff residences. Gail kept looking all around, expecting someone to come along and accost them. She'd had Eric slip her the letter opener after they'd left his and Rob's suite. If it came down to a fight, Gail was the most likely candidate by far out of the three of them to do what needed to be done. How she wished she could just zap the three of them over there, or had been able to heal their wounds instead of just hastily wrapping them like this. But there were intermittent sigils all over the place. So they would have to do things the human way, for the time being.

Which included breaking and entering. Luckily, they had found out that Eric had some skills in that area. He had advised Gail via their written communications that he could slip the lock on practically anything. He hadn't elaborated, but that was one of the dubious skills he had learned from Nuke, when Eric had set out to work in the drug trade. So he bent down now and inserted the makeshift lockpick he'd fashioned into the lock at Vincent's door, and a moment later, they were in.

This was another in a series of extremely risky moves. Gail had finally gone to her father's suite for that drink, and she had looked around as discreetly as she could on that occasion. There didn't seem to be any security cameras here, not unless they were well hidden. But she sincerely doubted that a guy like Vincent would want any surveillance in his living quarters, not with whatever weird voodoo crap he might be doing in there.

She had seen a small black case near the table that she'd assumed was a laptop, and the trio headed over there now. Rob put it on the table and opened it, and sure enough, it was a computer.

"OK, guys, what's his password?" Rob asked the others. He was already typing in "Vincent", and "voodoo", but of course, neither one of those was right.

"Try 'Abigail'," Gail suggested, "or my name, even." She made a frustrated face. She'd been afraid this might happen. That they would get all this way, and then not be able to guess his password. They didn't have much time now, but they had to try.

"How about 'bombs'?" Eric said, and Rob typed their suggestions in. Nothing.

Crap. They'd gotten this far, but with every second they spent here, the element of danger grew. But they had to disable the rest of the chips. This was the whole plan, right here.

Gail snapped her fingers. "Try 'Legba'," she told Rob. Vincent had told her what he considered to be his true name during their evening drink here recently.

Rob typed away. "I'm in!" he said excitedly.

Eric and Gail were looking over his shoulder at the computer screen. As soon as Rob had the Desktop open, he was clicking rapidly on the folders. He clicked on one that was red in colour. "Looks like this is it," Rob said tersely.

"Can you cancel the program, or disable it?" Gail said eagerly.

"Just a minute," Rob said. He was clicking furiously now, his tongue between his teeth, concentrating. "I think I can just delete the whole thing," the young man said, after a minute. "Look." He pointed to the icons at the top of the screen. "One of these'll probably do that. But, which one? What is this, French?"

Gail smiled grimly. "Yep. Show me all the words, but don't click on anything, yet."

He hovered the mouse over the various boxes. "'Effacer'," Gail said. "That's the one."

"Are you sure?" Rob asked her. "How do you know?" Eric chipped in.

"Trust me," Gail said. "It means 'delete'. I know French. So does your Uncle Cas. Remind us to give you THAT history lesson, after we're all home, safe and sound."

"OK. Here goes," Rob said nervously. He clicked on the icon, and they all watched as a bar moved across the screen. After a moment, the Display read "programme abandonee".

Gail let out a relieved breath. "OK, you guys. Get out there and start letting all the people out of their rooms, using Eric's 'Get Out Of Jail Free' system. I'm going down to the test labs." She took the letter opener out of her pocket. "I have a date with a couple of testers." The boys started to leave, and then she added, "Oh, and don't forget to scratch the paint on every sigil you see along the way. Keep everybody inside for now. But we have to be able to get the Angels in, so get everybody to grab whatever sharp stuff they can find, and scratch those sigils, OK? Now, hurry! We're running out of time!"

They rushed out to the corridor and parted ways. Gail ran to the wing where the labs were, and she burst into the room where Dr. Roarke worked. She needed to take care of him first, because he was an Angel with powers, who was probably carrying an Angel blade. Boy, was she going to enjoy -

He wasn't there. Dammit! Maybe he was in the next lab over, talking with Benoit. Vincent had put the place on lockdown while Cas and the others were there, so she couldn't think of anywhere else Dr. Roarke would be. As far as she knew, he spent all of his time at the testing facility. Same with Benoit; even though the latter was human. They had all been pulling long hours in the lab, trying to meet the deadline. She knew that they had already given Vincent some preliminary findings. She raced over to the next lab. No Benoit. Double dammit! They must have already left.

But there was no time to worry about those guys now. The "subjects" had to be her main concern at the moment. She fervently hoped that Cas had figured out the clue she'd given Jody, and as for the rest? She would just have to pray.

Cas had indeed figured out that Gail had been sending him the signal, and he was on high alert now, just waiting for the go-ahead to enact the contingency he had set up. Vincent had been strutting around taunting them all, and Cas had been engaging him in what Gail would probably have called macho rhetoric, to keep the dialogue going until something occurred that would tip the scales.

Then, suddenly, it happened. The metal door leading into the compound burst open, and Gail came running out. "Cas! Call your army, now!" she shouted. It was a desperate ploy on her part, but Gail knew her husband well enough to figure that he would have had a contingency plan set up.

Cas did not disappoint. An instant later, Angels began to pop into the yard. Cas had put them all on notice, as soon as Vincent had called him. Everyone from the Academy faculty was there, even Pamela. Cas still hadn't quite figured out what to do about her yet, but he couldn't let his personal feelings about it get in the way of what needed to be done. He needed all the soldiers he could get. Even Gabriel and Liz were there.

"Those of you who can, please put your shielding up now," Cas said loudly. He raised his blade, and so did Gabriel, Bobby, and Paul. Paul said, "Think fast, Boo," and he tossed Gail her blade with his free hand. She fumbled it for a moment, but then she made a quick recovery and held it aloft, like the others were doing. But, what the heck was she supposed to do with it? Put up a shield? How? She'd never done that.

Cas spoke an Enochian word she'd never heard before, and the white light shone from the tip of his blade. It hit Gail's blade, then bounced to the one Gabriel was holding, then to Bobby's, then to Paul's, creating a bright band of light over everyone's head, resembling an umbrella.

Vincent had his cell phone in his hand. He was livid. They had totally blindsided him. He glared at Gail. He could see the bloody bandage on her wrist. The little bitch had made sure she took care of herself first, hadn't she? He would feel a certain affection towards her for her apparent attitude of self-preservation, if he wasn't so royally pissed off right now.

"You just signed everyone's death warrants, Cas," Vincent snarled. "I thought you were smarter than that." He looked at Gail again. "I'll deal with YOU later." Then he looked at Frank and Jody. "You just exploded your son. Maybe you can rent out his room. I'm disappointed in you, Jody. I thought we were going to negotiate in good faith."

"Negotiation is a two-way street!" she yelled at him. "It's hard to negotiate with a person who never shuts the hell up!"

Oh, crap, Gail thought. A part of her was applauding Jody for saying that, but she knew from personal experience that there were often consequences for talking to Vincent that way. But they were all shielded, and the bombs were disabled now. What could Vincent possibly do to them?

"Angels, please go inside and get the hostages," Gail instructed. "There should be enough breach in the sigils for you to be able to enter by now."

Cas was smiling. "Please take everyone to the field behind the bunker, and we'll be there as soon as we deal with this piece of garbage." He looked at Gabriel. "Will you stay here with Gail and me?"

"Be glad to, Chief," the Archangel said, answering Cas's smile with a grim one of his own. "It'll be my pleasure to help you wipe this guy off the map."

Vincent laughed. "You think you're going to wipe me off the map? ME? Good luck with that. But in the meantime, let's just explode some people, shall we?" He brandished the cell phone.

"Good luck with THAT," Gail said. "Your programme is, how do you say, 'abandonee'."

"You clever little thing," Vincent said nastily. "I'm going to have to get Roarke to give you injections, next. He thought the air vent system would work, but it obviously didn't."

"Please," Gail said scornfully. She saw absolutely no need to tell him that the system had been working quite well, up until she'd figured out what was going on. "Better people than you have tried to modify my mind. But I have a news flash for you, Daddy Dearest. Roarke and Benoit are gone."

"WHAT?!" he thundered.

"You heard me," Gail replied calmly. "I was going to save this little gem for later, but: I have it on very good authority that your trusted assistants have filched a half-dozen of your brightest prospects, and left for greener pastures."

The astounded look on Vincent's face was sweet to behold. But he made a fast recovery. "OK, send your Angels inside, then," he said, shrugging. "I'll just blow them up, too."

"Did you not hear?" Cas said incredulously, shaking his head. "Your computer program has been aborted. The chips cannot be detonated."

"Well, I guess I look pretty foolish, then, don't I?" Vincent said sarcastically. He threw his cell phone down on the ground and stomped on it with his heel, smashing it to bits. "Lucky I cancelled my data plan this morning," he continued. "And since you're all so much more clever than me, it looks like there's only one thing left for me to do." He dug into his pants pocket and took out a control panel, showing it to everyone. Remember this, Cas?" He pushed a button, and there were a couple of loud, booming sounds from inside the building.

Liz screamed, and Vincent laughed. "That's what's called a Plan B," he told them smugly. "I had a couple of the stupidest kids plant bombs in a few strategic places. They didn't know what they were, of course. Looks like you won't have to worry about that huge grocery bill after all, Jody."

Smoke started to pour out of the building as Frank advanced on Vincent, shooting him again and again with the gun he'd taken out of his jacket. The bullets were striking Vincent's body, but then they would bounce off, as if his entire person was bulletproof.

Vincent grinned. "After Rob's funeral, maybe Jody can buy you a dictionary, so you can look up the definition of immortal."

Suddenly, Eric popped outside beside where Gail stood, holding Rob by one arm, and Ricky by the other. Rob grinned at Vincent. "Reports of my explosion have been greatly exaggerated," Rob quipped.

Frank's knees almost buckled. Rob was covered in blood and his clothes were torn, but if he was well enough to joke, he was well enough for the Angels to heal. "I'm sending you a mental high-five right now," Frank called out to his son.

Vincent turned in Rob's direction, but Gail stepped in front of the escapees and lifted her blade, pulling the white light over them. "Stay there," she instructed them firmly. "You're protected by God there."

"God?" Ricky gasped.

"My husband," Gail smiled, gesturing to Cas. "We'll do proper introductions after I resolve my father issues." She looked at Vincent. "You are ten pounds of crap, in a five-pound bag," Gail told him. "Isn't that the expression, Bobby?"

"You're damn right it is, dear," he said. His beard twitched.

Vincent glared at her wordlessly. Then he pushed another button on the control panel, and the metal door to the compound blew off its hinges and went flying in her direction, knocking Gail to the ground. "Oh, look at that," Vincent said with savage glee. "Happy accident."

Panicked, Eric grabbed Rob's hand and ran with him in Jody's direction. She pushed both boys behind her. Ricky had broken free from the pair, and he ran over to where Gail lay. So did Cas, and both men reached her at the same time.

"Oh, my God!" Ricky screamed. "She's bleeding! Please help her, my Lord!"

Cas was bemused. He reached down and touched Gail, healing the cuts she had sustained from the door's blow. As he was helping a dizzy Gail to sit up, Ricky got to his feet, glaring daggers at Vincent.

"You're a very bad man," Ricky berated Vincent. "Hurting your own children like this? How can you?"

"Oh, it's easy," Vincent shot back. "You're all just talking blobs to me. Interchangeable. Eminently replaceable. Just like the women who poop you out. Your mother opened her legs for a stranger, who brought her some loose tea once. Well, I guess you are what you drink."

Ricky raised his arms and two balls of fire formed, one at each of his hands. He cocked his body like a major-league pitcher winding up and threw the fireballs at Vincent, one after the other.

Vincent's eyes widened. Holy shit. Who knew Ricky could do that? He hit the ground, and the fireballs hit the side of the building, adding more fire and smoke to the conflagration that the explosions had caused. The compound was burning at a rapid pace now, and now, they could hear the screams coming from inside.

"We have to get in there, Cas!" Gail shouted over the crackling noise of the flames. But then, there were two more explosions, and more burning shrapnel came flying out of the building, forcing them all to move away from the structure.

"It's too late," Cas said sadly, his face lined with grief. He seized Gail's arm, just in case she was thinking about trying to go back in. But she had to face it: he was right. It was too late.

Ricky was crying. "I'm sorry!" he wailed. "I was only trying to help! I wanted to protect you from him, Gail. And your beautiful family, too. I love you."

Tears sprang to her eyes. She took Ricky's hand. She'd gotten to know Ricky pretty well throughout the testing process. He was a sweet, socially awkward man who'd had a hard go of things in his life. His "talent" and his upbringing had made him an outcast, conspiring to arrest his emotional maturity. Ricky was like a bewildered child in many ways, but his heart and his intentions were pure.

"I love you too, Ricky," Gail said to him, giving his hand a squeeze. "I'm glad you're my brother."

As Ricky's face lit up, Vincent threw his head back and laughed. "Well, isn't that a kick in the pants," he said sarcastically. "She finally declares her love for her brother, and it's the WRONG DAMN ONE! Say goodbye, Ricky." He extended his arm and snapped his fingers, and Ricky screamed and fell to the ground, writhing in agony. Gail fell to her knees beside him. She could hear loud, cracking sounds coming from Ricky's body.

"What did you do to him?" she yelled at Vincent.

"Every bone in his body is breaking right now," her father said cheerfully. "Sounds kind of like all the fireworks for Chinese New Year, doesn't it, Ricky? Gong hei fat choy, you big loser! Say hi to your mother for me!"

"You are just a big bowl full of dicks, aren't you?" Gabriel said angrily. He raised the blade he'd borrowed from Heaven's weapons room, but because it wasn't his own, no glow came from it. "Little help here, Cas?" Gabriel said dryly.

Cas had been distracted, looking at Ricky with anguish. Even as God, Cas was unable to heal injuries of that magnitude. Were he even to try, his powers would be severely drained, and his full attention was required elsewhere right now. He raised his blade and the white light shot out and engulfed Gabriel's borrowed blade.

The two men advanced on Vincent now, sending salvos of light into his body. He was throwing his arms up to defend himself. But then Vincent waved his hands, and pieces of shrapnel began to fly at the Angels. Gabriel received a nasty gash on the forehead. Blood stared to pour out of the wound, but the Archangel merely blinked it away and kept fighting.

"Keep it up, Voodoo Boy," Gabe said dryly. "All you're doing now is earning me brownie points with my girlfriend. Finally, I get to show her how good I am in a fight." He tipped the blade, and a beam of light hit Gail's father square in the chest, making Vincent stagger.

"Very good, Brother," Cas said, his lips twitching. "But I have a girl to impress, also." He moved his blade in an "X" formation, and cuts began to appear on Vincent's face and torso, tearing holes in his shirt and making his chest bleed.

Vincent fought back, but he was weakening now. Killing that many of his kids at once had been a tactical error, he supposed. But he'd been so angry. What these people didn't seem to understand was that Vincent always got his way. Always. One way or another. They had tried to make a fool of him, so he had gone for the jugular. That was how you won a war. Castiel knew that, and apparently, so did Gail, now. Vincent guessed her husband had taught her how to fight dirty. According to Jason, Castiel was a bit of an expert on the subject.

"Tell your husband to take good care of you," Ricky was saying weakly to Gail. "I'm glad you married God. You deserve the best. I've got to go, now." He closed his eyes, and then mercifully, he died.

Tears slid down Gail's cheeks as she bent down to kiss him on the forehead. "You rest now, Ricky," she told him. "Thanks. For everything."

"This isn't over!" Vincent shouted. The crackling noise of the fire was very loud, and now, the building started to collapse. "I've got a lot more kids out there. A lot."

Gail rose to her feet and faced him. "What are you going for, Father Of The Year?!" she called out to him. "What is WRONG with you? What is wrong with all of you? You, John Winchester, God...terrible fathers, every single one of you. All that your children ever wanted - no, all that we DESERVED - was love. What makes you think you have the right to just run around and father all of those kids, ignore them for years, and then kidnap them and treat them as cruelly as you have? I didn't ask to be born into your little Carnival Of Crazy here! You know what? You are going to lose, Daddy Douchebag. I'm going to see to it personally."

She gripped her blade tightly and raised it, assuming the same fighting stance as Cas and Gabriel. The golden beams came out, and struck Vincent right between the eyes. He staggered back, and for an instant, his face morphed into a grotesque mixture of human and fanged beast.

"The Earth will run red with all of your blood!" he roared, and then, he was gone.

"I'm sorry, Cas, but I'm in love with your wife," Gabriel wisecracked as Gail healed the cut on his forehead. "'Daddy Douchebag'?" he said to her, grinning happily. "That was fantastic."

"It was either that, or Papa Poopypants," she quipped. "But I was trying to sound like a badass, so I thought that second one would be a little too silly."

Gabriel laughed out loud, but then he winced in pain. "Hold still," Gail told him. "The cut goes deep, so it'll take a few more seconds."

The Angels were milling around now, healing each other's injuries, and those of the humans. No one was hurt too badly, not even Rob. The fact that his clothing was soaked in blood had scared Frank and Jody, who were hovering over him now. He'd had a few cuts from flying debris, but that was all. Chuck had healed those, and Rob thanked him.

"It's not my blood," the young man said to his parents. "We were running around freeing people and scraping sigils, and then a bomb went off near where we were. A bunch of his kids that were closest to it were...well, you know. If it hadn't been for Eric, I'd be exploded or burned up right now."

"Thanks, buddy," Frank said, extending his hand to Rob's brother for a shake. "We owe you one. A great big one."

Cas was checking Dean and Sam for injuries. "That guy's gonna be a real problem, Cas," Dean said worriedly, as his friend was healing a wound on his leg.

"'Gonna be'?" Sam said incredulously. "Did you see what just happened here? How many people died here today, and for what? That guy's worse than Lucifer."

"He's on a power trip," Paul commented. "I've seen the type. They'll set it all to burn, just to prove a point."

"And what point would that BE, exactly?" Dean asked angrily.

"That he can," Paul said simply, shrugging.

"Nietzsche said that the love of power is the demon of men," Bobby said, frowning.

"Yeah, and he also said that when you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you," Paul said soberly. "And I know for a fact that's true."

"That guy sure had a lot to say, didn't he?" Dean said now, rolling his eyes. "Although, I've gotta admit, a lot of what he said is true."

"Oh, yeah?" Gail retorted, approaching the men. "Well, Nietzsche was a known misogynist, who said, among other things, that the creation of women was God's second mistake! What do you think of that!"

"I think I want to know what His FIRST mistake was," Gabriel quipped, putting his arm around Liz, "'cause Dad's second one was his best one ever."

"Well, look at you, being all smooth," Liz said, kissing the Archangel on the cheek.

"OK, when did we land in Bizarro World?" Dean said rhetorically. "Gabe's making better jokes than Frank, and he's being sappier than Cas."

Gabriel shrugged. "Hey, I'm multi-tasking," he said, smirking. "I am an Archangel, you know." Then he looked at Cas and Gail, and his expression turned serious. "It just took me a while to realize what that truly means."

Cas gave him a tight smile. "I am grateful for your help here today," he said. "For all of your help."

"But we didn't do anything," Riley protested.

"I disagree," Gail said, taking Cas's hand. "You all showed up here, ready to do whatever we needed you to do. Just like a real family would. I'm only sorry we couldn't have saved those people." Her voice broke. She'd gotten to know most of them a little, as they had come in one by one to be tested. Isaac, the preteen psychic, who had a peanut allergy and couldn't wait to get his drivers' license so he could check out all of his state's tourist attractions. Edwin, whose best friend called him "Buzz", because he'd said he was planning to teleport to the moon one day. And Gwendolyn, the young woman who could blink her eyes and change her outfits and hairstyles instantly. She and Gail had had a few laughs about that. It was hard to imagine what Vincent would want with a skill like that, but Gail supposed that Gwen might have other, undiscovered talents. But they would never know now, because she was dead. They were all dead. All of those people, gone. They'd each had their own stories. Their own quirks, and their own personalities. They hadn't asked to be brought into this world, especially to be used that way by such an evil bastard of a father. They were just men, women and children, trying to live their lives the best way they knew how, despite their various supernatural gifts. Or afflictions, depending on the way you looked at it. Right now, Gail was tending towards the latter. If she wasn't already an Angel, that could very well have been her, either blown to bits in that building, or out there somewhere, waiting for the day when Vincent would call on her to join his army of -

Gail choked on a sob, and Cas put his arms around her and held her tightly to him. His poor darling. She had been through so much. And now, because he loved her more than anything, once she had regrouped from this ordeal, he was going to be forced to put her through perhaps the biggest test of their marriage to date. There were still three more steps to the ancient annulment, and as they had said in that Groundhog Day movie, one of them was a doozy.

Cas gently detached himself from Gail's arms, but not before gently handing her over to Frank. She still needed the comfort, and Gail's brother had been standing by, wanting to thank her for her part in saving Rob. As Frank put his arms around Gail, murmuring words of thanks and comfort, Cas walked over to the rubble of the compound building, checking for any vestiges of flame, or of human life. But, there was neither. As soon as Vincent had disappeared, Cas had conjured up a heavy rain over the building to douse the flames. But it had been too late to rescue anyone. They had all either been blown up by Vincent's bombs, or had perished in the fires that had ensued.

Having seen that the building was no longer burning, Cas walked over to Ricky's body. He looked down at the man with compassion, and also with gratitude. Once Vincent had gone, Gail had told Cas about Ricky, and how he had protected her when Jason had been about to feed on her. She had cried again when she'd told her husband about Ricky's innocent crush on her, and the fact that he'd been worried about the disposition of his soul for having murdered Jason. Cas's heart had been touched by Ricky's pure definition of love. That was exactly what God their Father had meant by the simple concept of one person loving another.

Cas knelt by Ricky's body now, saying a silent blessing for the man he'd never gotten the chance to get to know, but who had technically been Gail's sibling. As all of the ones who had perished here had been, he supposed. But he felt a particular tug of affection for Ricky, who had wanted nothing more than to save his sister from danger.

"Peace be with you," Cas said softly, putting his hand on Ricky's head. The white glow came out, and Ricky's body disappeared.

"Let's go home," Cas said, rising to his feet.


	5. Boys Don't Cry

Chapter 5 - Boys Don't Cry

Cas had left strict instructions not to be disturbed, and then he had taken Gail to their house on Earth. He shut Angel Radio down, asked her to do the same, and set his phone to Voice Mail.

She sat down wearily on the couch. "I'm not so sure we should cut off communications like that," Gail told him. "Remember what happened last time?"

"This is different," Cas said firmly. "I've left Bobby and Gabriel in charge, giving them total autonomy to handle anything that might come up. You need the break, and I need to be with you. Do you feel like talking about it?"

"No," she said, and then she burst into tears. Cas pulled her to him, cuddling her. Gail cried for a couple of minutes, and then she sniffled. "You know what, Cas? I'm so sick of coming back here from the latest crisis and bawling my eyes out," she said bitterly. "You know what? I feel sorry for this poor house of ours. When's the last time we did anything fun here?"

Cas frowned. "You're right, my love. I take responsibility for that. There's no reason we couldn't. None at all. We'll have a huge Christmas celebration here this year."

"That would be great, Cas," she said, perking up. "But Christmas isn't for a while yet. I don't suppose we could fast-track the last three steps of the annulment, could we? I'd love to have a fall wedding. We could have it in the back yard, and have the reception in here. Maybe you could wave your hand and make the rooms a little bit larger for that. The guest list will be longer for this one." She frowned. "Although, not as long as I would have liked it to be. I would have loved to have had the chance to have gotten to know some of those people better, Cas. Most of them were just ordinary people with extraordinary abilities they didn't ask to have. Just like me, growing up. I'm sure that most of them had loved ones of their own, who are going to be worried sick about them, wondering where they are. Parents, spouses, boyfriends and girlfriends, who probably reported their person missing a couple of weeks ago. What are we supposed to do about that?"

Cas thought for a moment, and then he said, "The files are still at the bunker. If you're feeling up to it, maybe we can go there tomorrow and look at them. If you are able to identify as many of those people as you can, I will ask a few of our most trusted Angel friends to visit their loved ones, and we will modify their memories. As there are no bodies, and therefore no proof as to what happened back there, I think that would be the most compassionate approach."

Now Gail felt terrible, even worse than she'd felt before. But she had to admit that he was probably right. Letting the dead peoples' loved ones believe that they might come back some day would be even worse. It was much harder to miss something you thought you'd never had. But this was an extremely grey area when it came to ethics, wasn't it? Were they not also depriving people of precious memories that way, and of the love they could hold in their hearts for their dear departed? It was enough to make you dizzy, just thinking about all of that. Actually, it was enough to make you sick. So, Gail was going to pull a Scarlett O'Hara; she wasn't going to think about it at all, at least, not right now.

"So what's the third step of the annulment?" she asked Cas.

He looked a little startled by the change in gears, but he took her hand. "It's a very quick and simple one," Cas replied. "But first, I want to ask you something: You don't still think I would ever hurt you, do you?"

"No, Cas," she replied immediately. "I told you, that was caused by whatever it was that they were pumping into my room. That Dr. Roarke's got quite the little bag of tricks. But lucky for me, his and Benoit's little double-cross was his main priority. He was in such a hurry to get the tests done and poach the prospects that he took me up on it when I agreed to help them get it done. Once I'd figured out what they were doing to me, I wanted to stay out of my room as much as possible. I owe Ricky for that, too. He's the one who inadvertently tipped me off that there was something being pumped into those rooms. For most of the subjects, it was just some kind of a sedative, to keep them docile. Some of them were fairly unaffected by it, though." She made a sound of derision. "I'm afraid I wasn't too far off the mark when I nicknamed him 'Mengele'. I guess at some point we're going to have to figure out what to do about those people, too. The ones that got away. And Vincent, of course. What a disaster. Aside from Jason's death, that is. Oh, and Rob and Eric getting to know each other."

Cas was trying to stay focused on what his wife was saying, but it was difficult at the moment. Gail had only touched Benoit for a split second, so she'd been unable to tell Cas exactly what he and Dr. Roarke might be up to. But Cas's mind was conjuring up some pretty frightening scenarios. And then, there was Vincent. The man was an amoral, diabolical sociopath, who had killed dozens of his own progeny out of sheer spite. He had gained nothing by doing so; in fact, he had sabotaged his entire project. Killing them all had been to his detriment, yet he had still done it. The deaths of so many of his offspring all at once had obviously weakened Vincent. Cas had seen it with his own two eyes. When he and Gabriel had fought Vincent, the man had been reeling. And then, when Gail had joined them, Vincent had looked extremely vulnerable. So much so that he'd had to cut and run, rather than stay and fight.

Gail was using avoidance right now rather than deal with many things head-on, but Cas was not about to force the issue. She had just been through a hellish experience, on the heels of so many others. What she needed right now was love and tenderness, not another dose of harsh reality. But sooner or later, they would have to talk about it: as long as Vincent's children lived, apparently, he would, too. They had talked about the subject very briefly, but now they had seen evidence of the theory's veracity. The question that would need to be asked, and soon, was...how far would they have to go, if they wanted to bring about Vincent's death?

"I don't care about a fancy dress, this time," Gail was saying. She and Cas were lying in bed now, after having made love. But Cas was still caressing her. He had missed her so much. He wondered if she had any idea how painful it was for him to be separated from her for any length of time and under any circumstances. They had talked about many things after getting back from the compound, but he had skillfully evaded Steps 4 and 5 of the annulment process. Still, it wasn't fair of him to let her keep on believing that she could have a fall wedding here. Well, not THIS fall, anyway.

"Still, I could wear that blue one you like," she continued, "and you could wear your black suit, with a blue shirt and a red tie, maybe. We'll get Barry to weigh in on that decision. You and I will have to be apart before the wedding, of course. I know that's a silly tradition, but we're doing it, anyway."

Cas had better put the brakes on this conversation right now, before he got swept up in the excitement of the whole thing. As much as he would absolutely love to do everything she was suggesting, he knew that it was impossible. But how could he tell her so without revealing the information he felt she wasn't yet ready to hear?

Cas sighed. "I love you more than anything. You know that, don't you?"

"Sure I do. Of course I do, Cas." She was kissing his chest now, and Cas's hands were wandering. It was going to be impossible to talk to her about the impossibility of their having a fall wedding if she kept this up, Cas thought. But he wasn't exactly helping his own cause, either. Somehow, his hand had found its way down to her thighs, and as she opened her legs for him, his other hand was lifting her face to his so he could kiss her on the mouth. This was his favourite way to avoid talking about something he really didn't want to talk about. And he had missed her so much. It seemed that they spent way too much time apart, with Gail in danger for most of that time. Cas was already an ancient being as it was, and he felt as if he aged even more every time she was thrust into that kind of situation. He supposed the only consolation afforded to him about their upcoming separation, the one mandated by Steps 4 and 5 of the annulment, was that she would be under someone else's protection for a while.

Not that she needed it that much, any more. Cas had been astounded to hear about all of the things she had done to undermine Vincent in the compound. He'd healed her wrist along with the other injuries she had sustained there, grimacing when she had described the way that she and the boys had had to remove the chips in their arms. Gail was so brave, now. Such a fierce little warrior. Cas was proud to have her by his side, fighting their enemies together. The main fear he had now was perhaps not that she would be unable to take care of herself, but that she wouldn't need HIM to, any more.

Cas took his hand away from her leg and brought her arm up to his lips, kidding her gently on the wrist. "Do you still need me, Gail?" he asked her now.

Her forehead wrinkled. "Of course I do," she said, puzzled. "Why would you even ask me that, Cas?"

"Because," he answered, a lump forming in his throat. "Because I haven't been there for you, when you've needed me the most. Because I did nothing to save you from him. And, maybe most of all, because you can take care of yourself now. One of the main things I could always do for you was to protect you. If you don't need me to do that anymore, then maybe you don't need ME anymore."

"I can't believe that you would even think that," Gail said, shaking her head slowly. "I need you every second of every day, Cas. The only reason I can take care of myself now is because you gave me the training I needed to succeed. But if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be able to do any of it. When I was in that compound, every time I needed the motivation to play nice with Vincent, or look at one of those evil bastards I was supposed to be working with without killing him, I would think of you. Every time I had to do something that made me feel sick, I would think about how much I missed you, and how badly I needed to be with you." She touched his face. "When I was holding that letter opener over my arm, I was having a conversation with you in my head. You were telling me that you loved me, and that the pain I felt would be temporary, and much less acute than the pain I was feeling being apart from you. And, as usual, you were right."

The lump in Cas's throat grew, and he could feel tears prickling at his eyes now. "When we are apart, all I can see is you," he told her softly. "You're all I can think of. My existence is meaningless without you by my side. That's why it breaks my heart to tell you this, but we won't be able to get married here in the fall. The moment we undergo Step 3, we will be required to live separately for six months. And, Step 4 decrees that we will be prohibited from being intimate that entire time."

Gail's heart sank. "Oh," she said in a small voice. Then her face brightened. "I've always wanted a late spring wedding," she quipped. Cas laughed softly. There. He'd told her the truth. Well, most of the truth. But it was as much of the truth as he could bear to tell her right now.

She was looking closely at his face. Gail knew her soon-to-be ex-husband very well, sometimes even better than he knew himself. He was keeping the really big bombshell from her; she could tell. She could see it in his face. It was bad enough that they would have to live apart for six months, banned from making love all that time because of some ancient, outdated moral code. But what else wasn't he telling her?

Never mind. That was another item she had decided to put on her list of things to not think about. That list was getting really long, she realized. Soon, she was also going to have to put off thinking about how long her procrastination list was getting to be.

But not right now. Right now she and Cas were here together, and Gail was safe and warm in his arms. "I'll tell you what," she said to him. "Let's wait until after Christmas to continue the annulment. I want us to host our happy family Christmas here as a married couple. Okay, Cas?"

"Whatever you wish, my love," he agreed, smiling faintly. "I would like that, too."

"What's Step 3, Cas?" she asked him warily. "Please tell me it's not some kind of painful, elaborate ritual. I don't think I could take it."

"No, it's quite simple, my darling," he assured her, stroking her cheek gently with his fingers. "We merely have to do a cleansing ceremony. We combine Holy Oil, water, and incense, and anoint each other with the mixture. Once that's done, we remove our rings, and move into separate residences. That is when Step 5 must be implemented. If you insist upon it, I will tell you about that now. But I would rather put it off until after Christmas, if we can."

"I'm really not going to like it, am I?" she said, sighing.

"Neither of us will," Cas said, frowning. In fact, they were both going to hate it. But Cas was going to hate it the most, he was sure. Sometimes, the hardest thing to do and the right thing to do were the same thing. However, in this case, he was having a hard time figuring out how the right thing could be taking two people who were so much in love and rending them apart in this manner. "I'm sorry, my darling," Cas said, kissing her face softly. "I would change it, if I could."

Gail sighed. "OK, I'll tell you what. Join me in the Procrastination Club. We serve coffee and snacks, and lots and lots of kisses. We can deal with the rest after our magical Christmas. Okay, sweetie?"

"Coffee, snacks, and lots of kisses are my favourites," Cas said, smiling gently. "Especially the latter." He bent to kiss her.

"Good, because I just checked, and I'm all out of coffee and snacks," Gail quipped lightly. Yes, it was as hokey as hell, but she didn't care. There was no one here but the two of them, and this was who they were. They could start facing reality tomorrow, but tonight was all theirs. She began to kiss her husband.

Their first stop the next day was Frank's house. Gail's brother had gone out and bought an air mattress, and Eric had bedded down in Rob's room overnight. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, but everybody had been way too tired and traumatized the day before to even begin that particular discussion.

The four adults were having breakfast when Cas and Gail arrived. Jody was multi-tasking as usual, trying to eat her breakfast, drink her coffee, and feed Angela, all at the same time.

"Please, allow me," Cas said eagerly, reaching for Angela. Jody shrugged. Sounded good to her. Maybe she'd be able to eat a hot breakfast, for a change. Frank and Rob were pretty good about helping out, but once food was put in front of them, they tended to lose focus. She wasn't particularly surprised to see that Eric was apparently the same way.

Cas cradled Angela in the crook of his arm, just like Rob had shown him, and took the bottle from Jody. He brought it up to the baby's mouth, and she grabbed at it with her little hands. "Cas," she said happily.

His mouth dropped open. "Did you hear that?" Cas said to everyone gathered around the table.

Rob grinned. He speared another couple of pancakes with his fork. "Yeah, she's really getting good at those one-syllable names. Mom, Dad, Rob..."

"Gail?" his aunt said hopefully.

"Sorry, not yet," Rob said, pouring syrup on his pancakes.

She snapped her fingers. "Damn," she said softly.

"Yeah, let's wait a couple of years before we teach her all the great one-syllable curse words, OK?" Frank said dryly. "Nice talk for an Angel."

"How are you doing, Eric?" Gail said, nudging Rob's brother.

"Pretty freaked out, to be honest with you," he said, taking a bite of toast. "Between everything that happened back there, and then finding out that Rob's family is half-human and half-Angel, I'm kind of flipping, right now." He looked at Cas. "And you're Rob's uncle, and you're God?"

"That's right, Eric," Cas said, holding the bottle at the angle that Rob had shown him before. "That makes me your uncle, too."

Eric sat back in his chair, pushing his plate away. "Then, if you're God, why couldn't you have saved all those people?"

The room fell silent as Cas and Eric were staring at each other. Rob stirred uncomfortably, but before he could say anything, Cas sighed. "I ask myself questions like that every day, Eric. I wish I could provide you with the answers you seek, but, as a very good friend of ours once said: I am not God, I just have his job. There are many things I can do, but there are others I cannot. That man Vincent is an ancient being, as I am, and he has access to some very powerful magic. He is also extremely volatile, and unpredictable. I didn't foresee his action. What he did made no sense whatsoever. It rendered his entire project pointless."

"Can't you, like, read minds, or something? Eric persisted.

"Human minds? Yes," Cas replied soberly. "But, not his. He is shielded from me."

"Well, then, what good are you?" Eric said bluntly.

"Look, Eric, we're glad to have you in our house, but I won't put up with you talking to Cas like that," Frank said sternly.

"Thank you, Frank, but I understand Eric's anger," Cas said, gently handing Angela back to Jody. He leaned forward, staring at Rob's brother intently. "I can read your thoughts right now," Cas said to the young man. "Your adoptive parents raised you to believe in God, from a very young age. You went to church, Bible study, and catechism. Then, when you were still in grade school, your adoptive father died of a heart attack. He was only 39 years old, and in good health. Understandably, you wanted to know why, and when you asked, you were told that his death was God's Will. But they were wrong to tell you that, Eric. It is not God's Will for people to die. Why would it be? When you create something you love, you want it to live, and to flourish. The Archangels and the Upper Echelon never understood that. Humans are to be loved and celebrated, not destroyed. Never destroyed."

Cas had a faraway look in his eyes now. He was probably reminiscing about the run-ins he'd had with his Brothers, trying to convince them not to pull the trigger on Armageddon. That humanity was precious, and worth saving. Yeah. Gail hadn't been around back then, but she could just imagine how those conversations had gone.

Cas came out of his reverie. "So, Eric, I do understand," he told Rob's brother. "After your father died, your adoptive father that is, you soured on religion. You and your adoptive mother began to disagree, and you felt increasingly rebellious. When you discovered that you could teleport, you used your powers to sneak out of the house, and stayed out past curfew. You didn't have any place to go, not really. You simply did it because you were not supposed to."

"I just wanted her to notice me!" Eric burst out suddenly. "Was that too much to ask? I know she missed my Dad when he died, but I wasn't dead! I needed her. I just wanted to get her attention, so she would see how much I was hurting, too! And the funny thing was, when she finally caught me, she didn't even seem surprised that I could teleport. It was like she already knew that there was something different about me. Something weird."

"I don't think you're weird," Rob piped up. Eric looked at him. "Sure, you're different," Rob continued, "but so am I. So are most of us. But that doesn't make us weird. I'm a psychic. You can teleport. So what? Other people can play piano, or juggle. They're just...talents, that's all."

Frank barked out a laugh, and everyone turned their heads to look at him. "Sorry," Gail's brother said. "I just had this mental image of some guy, juggling pianos. Now, THAT would be a talent."

Silence. Then Rob grinned. "OK, my Dad might be a little weird," he said to Eric, "but the rest of us are pretty normal."

"Hey, I set the bar pretty high," Frank told the young man. Then he looked at Jody uncertainly. "Or, is it low?"

His wife rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Eat your breakfast, Frank."

"If you continue to do Rycroft's dirty work, you will be throwing your life away," Cas said to Eric in a grim tone. "Not to mention the fact that you are helping quite a few of your fellow humans to slowly commit suicide with the products that your employer is purveying. After what you have just been through, do you really think that is the best way to live your life?"

Eric jumped up from his chair. "Who the hell are you to lecture me?" he yelled at Cas. "I just met you! You claim to be God? I don't believe in God! I prayed to God for years to bring my Dad back."

"It doesn't work that way, Eric," Cas said, his tone sharpening. "You're a young man now. Surely you must know that."

"All I know is my Dad is dead, and a giant piece of crap like Vincent gets to live forever. And God just stood there and watched our brothers and sisters suffer and die! You can go to hell!" Eric shouted. He ran out of the kitchen, and a moment later, the group could hear him thumping up the stairs. A pause, and then Rob scraped his chair back from the table and followed.

Angela was crying now, but her cries were softer and more subdued than many babies' keening wails. Nevertheless, Jody sighed. "She hates it when people raise their voices. Lucky Frank and I don't fight very often. Excuse me for a minute. I'm going to try to get her to take her nap, and then I'll go check on the boys. He's just got PTSD, Cas. I'm sure he'll calm down. We'll talk to him."

Once Jody left the kitchen with Angela in her arms, Frank rose from his chair to get another cup of coffee. "She's right, Cas," he said. "The kid's just angry his dad died so young. I can definitely relate to that. I'm the one who should have a talk with him."

Gail glanced at Cas, and he gave her a nod of encouragement. "Well, before you do that, it's me who needs to talk to you," she told her brother. "I found out a couple of things."

Frank brought his mug back to the table and sat back down across from her and Cas. "Yeah? Like what?"

She sighed. "Vincent confirmed to me that he killed your parents."

Frank nodded. "Well, that's not exactly a shock, but I guess it's good to have confirmation. But if Crowley thinks I owe him an apology, he's dreaming."

"About that..." Gail took a deep breath, and then let it out. "Vincent told me why there were Demons there that day. They were coming to collect. He said your mom made a deal with Crowley, and they were there to get Jim's soul. Maybe hers, too. Vincent said if he hadn't killed them, those Demons would have," Gail said in a rush.

Frank swallowed his coffee in a big gulp, scalding his throat. "What?!" he exclaimed. "Do you believe him?"

She shrugged, making a face. "I don't know, Frank. I guess it would explain a few things."

Now Frank was upset. It certainly hadn't been a very good day for the men in their family so far. "What am I supposed to do with that?" he asked her angrily. "Even if we take the word of a douche-y, foaming-at-the-mouth psychopath that that actually happened, what am I supposed to do about that, Gail?"

"I don't know," she said miserably. "I just thought you had the right to know what he said." Gail paused, and then she added, "Is it me, or are you not as surprised as I thought you'd be?"

He frowned. "Well, it's not unheard of, is it? Look at Sam and Dean."

"I'll tell you what," Gail said softly. "Cas and I talked about it last night. I also learned the real reason Christina burned my stuffed animals, and I wanted to talk to her about that. If you want, you could come and talk to her, too. But, only if you want. I don't know if it would make you feel better to talk to her about it, or worse. But I thought I'd make the offer, anyway."

"Let me think about it," Frank said to his sister. "In case you haven't noticed, we've got a little drama going on here right now. I'm gonna go up and talk to Eric, and we'll talk soon."

Cas and Gail joined hands and winked themselves out of the house.

Frank called Cas's cell phone later that afternoon, and Cas put the phone on Speaker immediately. "We got Eric calmed down, and he and Rob are playing video games right now," Gail's brother said. "But maybe you want to stay away from the house for a couple of days, Cas. I know you didn't mean to, but you kind of wound the kid up."

Cas frowned. "I'm sorry, Frank. I just don't want him to make poor choices."

"Neither do I, man, but there's a way to go about these things," Frank told him. "Leave it to me."

"Are you coming with us to talk to Christina?" Gail asked her brother. "I had Kevin check online, and the house is still up for sale, believe it or not. That makes me think she's still there. Maybe she's waiting for us to come back. I talked to Sam and Dean about it." And she had, too. What she didn't add was that the Winchesters had told her and Cas that guilt was probably keeping Christina tethered to the house. But, guilt about what? Gail was pretty sure she knew, now.

Frank sighed. "Yeah, I want to come. I'll probably regret it, but I want to find out what she's got to say about it. Jody said that she'd stay here with Angela and the boys. Are you at the bunker right now? I'll drive over there, and then you can zap us over to Denver."

Cas hung up, putting the phone back in his pocket. "Do you really think that Frank's mother made a deal with Crowley for his father's soul?" he asked the Winchesters.

The brothers exchanged glances. "Why are you asking US about that?" Sam said with a crooked smile. "It's not like WE would know anything about the subject."

"Why don't you just ask Crowley?" Dean asked the Angels.

"Forget it," Gail said quickly. She thought about the mark underneath her hairline now. Another thing she'd decided to put off thinking about.

Cas was looking at her sharply. "I want you to tell me what he did to you when you were there," he said sternly.

"I told you, Cas. He refused to revive you," Gail said evasively. "So I'm mad at him."

"How long was Gail in Hell?" Cas asked the brothers.

"I don't really remember," Sam said vaguely.

"Why did everyone have to come up with an extraction plan for you, then, if he simply refused to revive me and then sent you back up here?" Cas asked her pointedly.

"Who said anything about an extraction plan?" Gail asked nervously.

"I love you, but please do not be evasive with me," Cas persisted. "I have wanted to spare your feelings because of your recent ordeals, so I didn't push you. But when you evade my direct questions, I must believe you do so because the truth will make me angry."

"Aw, geez. Are you guys gonna argue, now?" Dean groused. He gave Gail a look, letting her know that he was trying to help her out. "Sammy and I don't want to get in the middle of that."

"You're making these guys uncomfortable, sweetie," Gail said to her husband. "They probably don't want to listen to us talk about Hell. You know how horrible it is there. Maybe they don't want to be reminded of that."

Cas frowned. He hadn't thought of it that way. Gail saw the comprehension on his face, and now she felt guilty for manipulating him like that. But there was no upside to talking about that right now, not until she could find out about the mark she bore. And now was not the time for that. She loved her husband more than life itself, but she needed to ditch him in order to ask Sam and Dean about the mark. Seeing as she and Cas were going to have to be separated after Christmas, she had decided to wait until then to deal with it.

Besides, she had a dead mother to talk to right now. Frank arrived at the bunker a short while later, and he poured himself a shot of whiskey, downing it on one swallow. "Let's go to Denver," he said to the Angels, squaring his shoulders.

"Do you want us to go with you?" Sam offered, but Frank shook his head. "We're only going to talk to her, not get rid of her," he replied. "If she's even there. If she is, hopefully we'll get closure this time."

Then Cas and Gail took him by his hands, and the trio winked away.

Cas had made sure that the three of them would be invisible to human eyes, in case they were to startle anyone by their sudden appearance. But the house was dark and deserted, though the For Sale sign was still on the lawn.

"Wow, we should almost buy this place," Frank mused aloud. "Can you imagine how cheap it would be going for?" Then he looked in the direction of the living room, frowning. "Then again, maybe not." No matter how many times Frank thought about this house and his parents, it always came back to seeing their blood, splattered all over the walls. Thanks, Vincent, he thought angrily.

Gail slipped her hand into her brother's, and he looked down at her gratefully. "Let's go upstairs," Gail said softly, but suddenly, Christina appeared in front of them, in the doorway that led to the kitchen. "That won't be necessary," Frank's mother's ghost said. "Please, come into the kitchen."

They exchanged glances, then walked into the kitchen after her. Christina was standing by the stove, as if she was about to cook them something. Frank felt a dizzying sense of deja vu. That was where she had been standing on the day she had died.

"Are you here to release me, at last?" Christina said to them.

"It depends," Frank said cautiously. "We both want to talk to you, Mom. Is it OK if I go first?" he asked Gail. She gestured, so he continued: "Did you make a crossroads deal with Crowley?"

Christina looked sad. "Yes, I did, Frank."

"Why the hell did you do that?" he asked her angrily.

"I didn't know what else to do!" his mother exclaimed. "Your father came home one night from a Hunt, and he had been mortally wounded. I had to get him back."

Gail winced inwardly. Oh, crap. That sounded all too familiar to her. Talk about irony.

"I drove to the crossroads, and I told Crowley I would do whatever it took to get him back," Christina went on. "So he came back here, and..."

"He came back here?!" Frank said, raising his voice. "You're telling me that the King of Hell was in this house when we were kids?"

"Yes, but he never laid a hand on you," Frank's mother assured him. "He never even saw you. You were sleeping in your room, and Gail was in the living room, in her bassinette. She was just an infant."

Gail's eyes were wide. Crowley had been here, in their childhood home, when she and Frank had been little kids? "You were sleeping," Frank's mother said to Gail. "I went into the kitchen to get him something to drink, and when I came back into the living room, you were quiet, so we obviously didn't wake you."

"So, you left your baby alone in a room with the King of Hell," Frank said, his voice dripping with scorn. "Nice parenting, Mom."

Gail half-shrugged. "Hey, it could have been worse. It could have been Vincent," she said to her brother. "He probably would have eaten me, or something."

"You know what? I don't care," Frank said, tight-lipped. "What you did really stunk, Mom. How could you do that to us?"

"I did it FOR you, Frank," his mother insisted. "We all needed your father, alive."

"Yeah? And what were you gonna do in ten years, when his soul was due to go to Hell? What then?" Frank fumed. "No. You did that for YOU, Mom, not for us. You know, now that I'm a parent, I realize that being a parent to your kids means a lot more than putting clothes on their backs and food in their faces. If you can't sacrifice everything for your kids, then you never deserved them in the first place. A true parent would give their life, to their very last breath, for their kid. Not making Demon deals, and not arranging to make your kids orphans." Frank took a deep breath. "Look, I'm really sorry about what happened to you and Dad. I mourned you guys for years. I still do, and a part of me always will. But I'm a grown man now, with kids of my own to take care of. And I'm gonna do a damn sight better than you did."

Frank's voice was thick, and Gail realized that he was fighting back tears. "I'll be on the porch," her brother said, and he exited the kitchen.

"I suppose you're here to shout at me, too," Christina said to Gail. Her tone was flat; expressionless.

"Not necessarily," Gail replied, raising an eyebrow to her. "But I would like to know why you - "

"Why I made the deal with Crowley," Christina said dully.

"No, I actually understand that," Gail said, glancing at Cas. "What I wanted to ask you is why you treated me so differently than Frank for all those years. Is it because Vincent was my father?"

Christina sighed. "You were a big disappointment to me."

Gail could see Cas stirring, out of the corner of her eye. Knowing him as she did, Gail could tell that he was gearing up to tell Christina off. Poor Cas. He wasn't having too much luck with mothers-in-law these days, she thought with wry humour. But she put her hand on his arm to restrain him, because she had the feeling that Christina wasn't done yet.

And Frank's mother wasn't done, either. She continued, "But, instead of accepting you the way you were, I tried to mould you into what I wanted you to be. And when that didn't work, I admit that I abandoned you, emotionally. Every time I looked at you, I saw your father in your eyes."

"Let me tell you how that felt for me," Gail said, as calmly as she could manage. "I had no idea that any of that was going on. I was a little kid, Christina. Most parents adopt kids because they want them. I never got that from you. In fact, I never got that from anyone. Do you remember a strange woman that visited here one day, when I was in a playpen in the living room? Medium height, blonde hair, light brown eyes? You offered her cake."

"That sounds familiar," Christina said. "Why?"

"She was my birth mother, Abigail," Gail explained. "Cas and I had the dubious pleasure of meeting her recently, and do you know what she said to me? She said that having me ruined her life. She said that when she visited here that day, she seriously considered picking up the cake knife and killing me with it. Nice, eh? Oh, and I just got back from a fun-filled stay at a locked-down compound, as an unwilling guest of my father's, with explosives planted in my body! He told me that he was the one who was behind your having burned all my stuffed animals, just to screw with me. Is it any wonder I grew up so screwed up? To this day, I have such low self-esteem that I feel like a fraud in Heaven. Every time somebody says something nice about me, I look around to see who they're talking about. Every time my husband tells me he loves me, my first impulse is to ask him why." Gail was fighting back tears now, but she took a deep breath. "But, thank you for what you just said, Christina. That's more of an apology than anyone has ever given me. So now, I'll apologize to you. I shouldn't have said what I said when I discovered you'd burned my stuffed animals. I was a young, bewildered child, and I didn't know what I was saying. I don't hate you, Christina. I never did."

"And I'm sorry I wasn't a better parent to you, Gail. I truly am," Christina said in a subdued tone. "And while we're exchanging apologies, I would like to extend one to you too, Castiel. I was very rude to you when you all came here that other time. You took me by surprise, and instead of being compassionate, I went on the defensive. But I'm happy that you're here with my daughter. If I can still call you that, Gail," Christina added ruefully. "You obviously love her very much. And Frank loves you too, Gail. I can see it in his eyes. I'm glad that the two of you have been able to maintain your relationship, in spite of my mistakes. Please tell him I love him, and that I'm sorry."

"Just wait. You can tell him that yourself," Gail said. She touched Cas on the arm, and then she popped outside on the porch. She grabbed Frank's hand and winked her brother back into the kitchen. "Show your mother those pictures you have in your wallet," Gail instructed Frank, nudging him.

Frank frowned, but he slowly reached into his pants pocket and flipped open his wallet. "This is Angela," he told Christina. "Your granddaughter."

His mother peered at the picture. "She has your eyes, Frank," she said, after a moment. "She's beautiful." Christina looked at her children one more time. "Thank you for showing her to me, Frank. And, thank you for coming here to see me. Now, I think I can move on."

"Rest in peace, Mom," Frank said softly. "Say hi to Dad for us. I'll tell Angela about you both." He blew his mother a kiss, and she faded away.

The trio popped back to the bunker, and Frank helped himself to another drink.

"How'd it go?" Sam asked the siblings.

"It went," Frank said laconically.

"I think we all got as much closure as we could get," Gail elaborated. "I'm pretty sure she was able to move on now."

"Well then, that's a good thing, right?" Sam said heartily.

"Yeah," Frank said glumly.

They all sat around in silence for a couple of minutes, and then Gail said, "Cas and I are going to have a party."

The men all looked at her. "What? What for?" Dean asked.

"Since when do you need an excuse?" she retorted. "It's been ages since we've done anything fun at our house, and I didn't want to wait until Christmas. Let's just call it a 'we're-all-glad-to-be-alive' party. It'll be next Saturday night, so everybody save the date now. No God stuff, no Hunting, no doom and gloom. Just loud music, good food, lots of booze, and maybe some games, or some dancing. Cas and I will get all the supplies, and we'll zap everybody to our house, so no one has to think about driving. And no offense, Frank, but I think we'll leave the babies at home. We have a few Angels at the school who would make excellent babysitters."

"What about Liz?" Frank asked her.

"I'm sure she'll want to come, with Gabriel," Gail replied. "They're kind of a thing now. Besides, she's not some kind of an Angel Mary Poppins that you can call anytime you need a babysitter. She's my friend, and I want her at the party." She looked at Cas. "I'm really getting excited about this, now. I want everybody there. No excuses."

"I see a lot of shopping in your future," Frank said to Cas, smirking. "You poor bastard."

Gail was smiling. Frank was perking up now. That had been one of her goals, but she truly was getting excited about the party. November was such a "blah" month. The cooler weather suited her, and the colours of the changing leaves on Earth were spectacular. But aside from that, there was a bit of a down period before Christmas. They'd had a very tumultuous year, to say the least, and if Gail was going to be forced apart from the love of her life for 6 months, she wanted to have some fun before that had to happen.

As they all started bantering back and forth about the music and the refreshments, Sam's cell phone rang. He answered it without looking at the Display.

"Hi, Sam," Becky said. "How are you? How is everyone?"

Sam blinked in surprise. "Fine," he said, caught off-guard. "Uh...how are you?"

"I'm doing great," she told him. "I've been working really hard. I should be in a couple of magazines next spring."

"That's good," he said uneasily.

"Who is it, Sammy? We're trying to plan a party, here," Dean said loudly.

"It's Becky," Sam said, gesturing, with a puzzled look and a shrug.

Dean grinned. "Give it here," he said, yoinking the phone out of Sam's hand. He put it on Speaker, then laid it down on the table in front of him. "Becky! How're you doing?!" Dean exclaimed.

Sam was squirming in his chair, but because the phone was on Speaker, he didn't want to say anything to hurt Becky's feelings. He reached for the phone, but Dean pushed his hand away, then moved the phone further down the table.

"I heard from Bobby that Cas and Gail are back," Becky said tentatively, "and I just wanted to ask you guys if they're okay. I'm not an Angel anymore, so I'm kind of out of the loop."

"Funny you should ask. They're right here," Dean said. "They're gonna have a party at their place this Saturday. Do you wanna come?" He smiled wickedly at Sam.

"Oh, I'd love to!" Becky squealed. "Hi, Cas! Hi, Gail!"

"Hello, Becky," Cas said. "So, your modelling career is going all right?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Thanks for setting me up there, Cas. I love it. Hey, I bought a car, too, so I can drive over to your house. What time's the party?"

"We haven't gotten that far in the planning, yet," Gail said.

"I'll tell you what," Cas said. He reached into his jacket pocket for his own cell phone. "Tell me your phone number, and I'll put it into my phone. Then, when we have everything figured out, we'll give you a call. How would that be?"

"Oh, you guys, that'd be great!" Becky enthused. "I'm so glad you're OK!"

"See you then, Becky," Dean said. He pushed the button to hang up Sam's phone, still smirking at his brother. "Well, I guess you'd better run out and get a new outfit, Sammy," Dean wisecracked. "Told you I'd get you back, for that thing you did at the place."

"OK, I don't think I wanna get in the middle of whatever this is," Frank said, rising from his chair. "I'm gonna take off. Give me a call about our celestial babysitter," he added, looking at Gail. "And, thanks for the field trip. In a strange way, I feel better now. At least Mom can move on from there, now."

Gail got up and walked around the table, putting her arms around her brother's waist. "I love you, Frank," she said, pressing her head into his stomach. Frank put one arm around her and the other hand on top of her head, and Gail smiled. That was how he used to hug her when they were kids, when he wanted to tease her about the growing difference in their heights. At a certain point, Gail had stopped growing, but Frank had continued. He was very tall now; not quite in Sam territory, but certainly at least as tall as Dean and Cas.

"Yeah, yeah. I love you too, kiddo," Frank said impatiently, but he was smiling. "Stop being so sappy, all the time."

"Oh, don't worry, I'll be insulting you plenty at our party," she said, pulling out of the embrace. "I think we'll play Trivial Pursuit, in teams. We'll pick the names out of a bowl, just like we did with the video game tournament. It'll be fun."

"No, it won't," Frank complained. "I never win at that game. Ever. You and Sam will clean up, and Cas will ace the history questions because he was there, for all of it."

"I will probably do very well at Geography, also," Cas piped up, "as I've been to nearly every place on the Earth at some point. I can also answer questions about the planets quite competently."

"Let me guess: because you've been to them," Frank said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, that's right, Frank," Cas said, nodding his head earnestly.

Frank sighed. "Of course you have. Okay, I'll see you guys." He headed down the hallway towards the garage.

"I'm not playing Trivial Pursuit," Dean stated, taking a sip of beer. "It's stupid."

"No, YOU'RE stupid," Sam said, grinning.

"Shouldn't you be in your room, trying on dresses for your hot date with Becky?" Dean shot back. "Maybe SHE can be your partner for Trivial Pursuit. Good luck winning then."

Gail was trying to keep a straight face, but she was having a hard time doing so. Dean was certainly right about that last part. She sighed. Truth be told, Gail hadn't even thought about inviting Becky. They had never really been that close, and now that Becky'd gotten her wish and become a human again, she was kind of outside their circle now. But once Dean had invited Becky, they could hardly un-invite her. Gail didn't want to get involved in any drama, but there would be a lot of people there, and she didn't really see the harm. If Sam didn't want to talk to Becky, he could just avoid her. Besides, he was probably going to bring Quinn.

"Cas and I will start planning the party now," she told the Winchesters. "See you Saturday." Then she and Cas winked out.

Becky hung up the phone, feeling dazed. She couldn't believe her good fortune. She had called Sam's phone to see if she could arrange to meet him somewhere. She'd been prepared to make something up, maybe something about the photo studio being haunted, or something. But this was way better.

She went to the dining room and looked at the book again. Then she moved her finger around the table, ticking off all the ingredients on the list. Then she did it again, just to be on the safe side. She had everything that the spell called for now. All she had to do was mix up all the ingredients, following the instructions in the book, and she would have the Eternal Devotion love potion, the one that would make Sam fall in love with her forever.

There was only one problem. Becky had been very good about keeping food or drink away from the spell book while she was studying it. But one day, she had been eating a grilled cheese sandwich in the kitchen, and she had propped the book up against a shoebox on the kitchen table, so she could study it without touching it. But the book had slipped, and when she'd reached out to catch it, Becy had left a small spot of grease on that page. Therefore, when she had driven out of town to an occult shop in a different city to purchase the ingredients for the spell, instead of the ear of a bat, she had asked for and received the ear of a rat.

And now, as she began to combine the ingredients in the bowl, Becky was quite unaware that what she was creating was not a love potion, but a veracity potion. Whoever imbibed a drink with this liquid in it would be compelled to tell the complete, unvarnished truth, to the first person who asked them a question.

It was going to be one hell of an interesting party.


	6. Midnight Confessions

Chapter 6 - Midnight Confessions

A couple of hours before they were supposed to begin receiving guests for the party, Gail was rushing around the house, checking and double-checking on everything. She hadn't been this excited, or this nervous, since they had hosted Christmas here, and that had been quite a while ago. Or at least, it felt like a long time ago. But there would be more people coming this time, and she fretted about everyone feeling entertained and included. Cas was going to bestow appetites on the Angels who wanted to eat and drink, but Gail didn't want everyone just standing around and talking stiffly, either. Since Frank and the Winchesters had been so resistant to the idea of Trivial Pursuit, she had instead decided on the game of "Never Have I Ever". That was a game where everyone could participate. The idea was to propose a sentence that started with "Never have I ever...", and then fill in the last part with a certain experience. Predictably enough, Cas had never heard of the game before, so he'd asked her to explain it to him.

"It's a fairly simple concept," Gail had told him. "We go around the room, and each person comes up with one. For instance, you might say, 'Never have I ever...read a comic book, from cover to cover'. The people who HAVE done that get to take a drink, and the people who HAVEN'T done it have to throw a quarter in the pot. We start everybody out with a roll of quarters, and if they run out of quarters, they get knocked out of the game. Whoever ends up with the most quarters left, the last man or woman standing, wins the pot. I think everybody will enjoy it, and I don't think the guys will mind too much 'cause they get to drink, and there's the chance to win a substantial pot."

"That sounds like fun," Cas enthused. "So, for instance, I could say: 'Never have I ever...had grandparents'. That would be a true statement."

Gail laughed. He was so cute. "No, you're kind of missing the point of the game, sweetie. You're right, of course. That WOULD be a true statement. But you would obviously be the only one who could make a statement like that."

"I know," he replied, smiling mischievously. "So that would mean that I would win the game."

Gail shook her head, still smiling. "While I applaud your competitive spirit, that would make it the world's shortest game, if that was how it worked," she said. "But remember, you have to throw a quarter in the pot if that statement applies to you. So, you've got it backwards. You would be the only one losing a quarter, in that instance. The object is to clean everybody else out. So you want to pick something that you HAVE done, but you think that some of the others haven't."

"Such as?" Cas asked her, curious.

Gail thought for a moment. "OK, here's one: Never have I ever...donated blood."

"Voluntarily, or otherwise?" Cas said, his eyes sparkling.

"All right, bad example," Gail said. Her lips twitched. "OK; let me think of another one. I know: we could probably get quite a few of them with this one. Never have I ever...sung in public."

"I would have to throw a quarter in, then, because I never have," Cas told her.

"Really? I would have thought that you would have at some point, in thousands and thousands of years," Gail said.

"Not that I can recall," Cas said, thoughtful. "My voice is not unpleasant, but it is not melodic, like yours. You must have sung in public before."

"Well, I'm pretty shy about it, as you know," she replied, "but if you'll recall, I sang at Barry and Tommy's wedding."

"That's right!" Cas said excitedly. "I must admit, I'd forgotten about that for a moment."

They'd been sitting on the couch, where he had steered her. Cas had finally convinced Gail to sit down with him, claiming she was making him dizzy. But now, he was really glad that he had, because the subject was fascinating to him. He took her hands in his. "This seems like a wonderful way for all of us to get to know each other better," Cas remarked.

"That's what I thought, too," Gail agreed, "although we can never put it that way to the guys, or they'll refuse to play. You know how they are. So we're going to promote it as a drinking game where you can also win money, and have some laughs. Got it?"

"Got it," Cas said with a smile.

"Oh, and I'm going to institute a couple of rules, too. No stacking the deck, like with your grandparent question, only in reverse. Like, you can't say Never have I ever...had my name mentioned in the Bible. That would be a little too unfair," Gail went on.

"Well, technically, Gabriel wouldn't have to put in a quarter, either," Cas said affably, "but yes, I know what you mean."

"Oh, and nothing really stupid, either," Gail added. "Like, if somebody says Never have I ever...been abducted by aliens, I want you to smite them, as a warning to the others."

Cas laughed softly. "This is going to be a wonderful party," he said to her. "I'm very glad you had this idea."

"Even though I've been running you ragged shopping all week?" she teased.

"Well, I have to admit that I wondered why you didn't just have me supply us with everything we needed in an instant," Cas answered, rather evasively.

"Because half of the fun is in the preparation, and the other half is in the anticipation," she told him. "Especially the anticipation. When I think about having our loved ones, both human and Angel, come to our home to enjoy each other's company, it just..." Gail struggled to articulate what she wanted to say. "It just makes me feel that whatever else has gone or will go wrong, that there's something good and right and constant in our lives, and that's our family and friends. Does that make sense, Cas?"

"Very much so," he said, giving her hands a gentle squeeze.

"Oh, and thanks for enlarging the place, for the time being," Gail continued.

"Well, since we'll be having more people over, both now and at Christmas, I thought we should have more room for them," Cas said. "If any of our human family have too much to drink, I added a few bedrooms, too, just in case any of them want to stay over."

"That's very thoughtful, sweetie," she said. Then she frowned. "I wonder if we have enough food. Do you think we have enough food, Cas?"

He smiled. "We have more than enough food. Don't worry, my darling. The party is going to be a success. Remember the wonderful Christmas we had here? You have thought of everything now, as you did then. We have food, drinks, and a fun game to play. Now relax, please."

"We have an hour and a half until the Angels are due to start bringing our human guests over," Gail pointed out. "What are we going to do until then?"

"How about if you and I play some Never have I ever?" Cas suggested. "Just for fun. Just to pass the time."

Gail shrugged. "Sure, if you want."

"I'll go first," Cas said, smiling. "Never have I ever...made love to my wife the same day that we have thrown a Never have I ever party."

Gail's lips twitched. "Well, that seems oddly specific," she said, playing along. "But remember, if we haven't done that, we lose a quarter."

"Ahhh, but if we rectify that situation now, we can keep our money," Cas said, raising an eyebrow to her.

"I think you've taken to the concept of this game a little too well," Gail parried. "But, on the other hand, I've always liked the idea of saving money."

Cas winked them to the bedroom.

They were showered and dressed just over an hour later, and then the first guests started to arrive. Gail had invited just about everyone they knew fairly well, and who knew about them and their world. There was a good mixture of humans and Angels. Chuck and Laurel brought Sam and Dean, and Frank, Jody, and Rob and Eric. Then, they went to get Quinn, who was coming as Sam's date, and Chuck's sister Hester. Sam grinned at Dean's expression when his brother saw Hester. A little payback for Dean's having invited Becky. Becky had decided to drive over there herself; that way, she could leave whenever she wanted to, without having to rely on an Angel for transportation. Unless she got together with Sam, of course. She had the flask containing the potion in her purse. But who knew how quickly the stuff worked, or what form it would take? Hopefully, she wouldn't have to dose him more than once. It was going to be hard enough to even do it once, with all those people around.

Then a large Angel contingent arrived, all at once: Bobby, Efram, Riley, Linda, Kevin, Paul, and Henri. As Cas and Gail were the hosts, they stayed put, offering refreshments. So Bobby popped up to Vancouver to get Barry, Tommy and Carolyn. They'd left young Peter with a babysitter, and Frank and Jody had left Angela with Enid, a young Angel who was also one of the teachers at Heaven's school. Gail and Liz both vouched for her, advising that she was very good with children. And of course if there were any problems at all, she need only call, and Angela's parents could be instantly transported home.

Then Ethan and Karen arrived, explaining that they were slightly late because they'd had to arrange for a sitter for George. The young boy hadn't really understood why he couldn't come to the party. They'd had to explain that it was for grownups, only. So, to mollify their son, they had enlisted the help of one of the Academy students named Phillip to take George to the baseball diamond to practice. The young boy had developed a passion for baseball, and there were quite a few Angels, mostly young ones, who were more than willing to help him practice. When Karen and Ethan were dressed and ready to leave, Phillip had assured them that George was in good hands. He wouldn't be at all surprised if some of the other guys - and girls - he trained with at the Academy drifted over to help George with his fastball and his batting stance, Phillip had told George's parents with a wink. Then George had kissed his parents goodbye and happily took Phillip's hand, to be winked over to the ball diamond.

Then Liz and Gabriel came, and they were hand in hand. Gail had just barely had time to tease them about that when Chuck showed up with Nicole. And, as a nice surprise, Richard was with them, and accompanying them was Richard's wife, Wilma. Richard had told her all about the situation a while back, but she looked a little dazed now.

Cas and Gail went over to Wilma and Richard immediately, as Dean moved to claim Nicole.

"It's good to see you, Richard," Cas said, offering his hand for a shake.

"And it's nice to finally meet you," Gail said to Wilma, doing the same. "I was beginning to think we might never see you, sort of like Vera on Cheers, or Maris on Frasier," she quipped.

Wilma laughed, taking Gail's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet a real Angel," she said. Then Wilma looked around the room. "Well...you know what I mean. It's funny, though. This all seems so...normal. You seem so - "

"Human?" Gail finished for her. "Yeah, we get that a lot." She glanced past Wilma, where Gabriel was snapping his fingers, putting drinks instantly in everyone's hands. Gail rolled her eyes, smiling. "Of course, some of us are more like humans than others."

Once everyone was settled in with refreshments, Gail asked for everyone's attention. "We've decided we're going to play a game," she announced. Inevitably, a few of the men groaned, and Gail frowned. "Hear me out," she told them. "I think everybody will really enjoy this one. It's called 'Never have I ever'. For those of you who don't know, I'll quickly explain how it works." She did, and then she added, "There are just a couple of rules." Dean and Frank moaned, and she pointed her finger at them. "Rule Number One: shut up," Gail said sternly.

Eric grinned. His Aunt Gail was all right. He had decided to cut Cas a little slack, after talking to Rob and his parents. Any guy that Gail thought was worth marrying had to be okay. Eric had a healthy admiration for Aunt Gail based on their time together back at the compound. Or, maybe she was his sister. That part was still confusing to him. But she had really come through for them at that compound. It hadn't been easy for Eric to carve himself up like that, but she hadn't asked him to do anything she didn't do herself, and she had cut herself without even blinking. And he'd appreciated her automatically having included him in the plan. She'd instantly made him feel like he was part of the family. Although Eric still wasn't entirely sure he was ready to join this whole happy human/Angel hybrid thing they had going on here. But at the moment, there were drinks, and lots of food, and the game sounded like it might be fun. Eric wasn't sure about some of these other ones yet, but Gail seemed like the kind of Angel he could hang around with. When they'd first gotten here, Eric had looked around the house and remarked that it didn't look like a place where he would expect God to live. Then Gail had said, quick as a flash, that she'd told Cas to get Saint Peter to stand at the front door, taking people's coats, but she guessed he'd been busy. A few of them had laughed out loud at that, and Eric had been one of them. So he'd decided to hang, at least for the time being.

"So remember, if you HAVE done the thing, you take a drink," Gail was saying now. "If you HAVEN'T done it, you throw a quarter in the pot. We're giving everyone a roll of quarters. Once you're out of quarters, you're out of the game. The last one with quarters remaining from their roll will win the pot, but we've also got prizes for the top five finishers. We only have two restrictions. The first one is, no stacking the deck. Like, for instance, no saying something that would automatically eliminate half the group. So, us Angels wouldn't be able to say Never have I ever...teleported, because that wouldn't be fair to the humans." She looked at Eric and gave him a quick wink. Not everyone here tonight had been at the compound, and that was Eric's business, anyway. He got it, and gave her a smile.

"And secondly," Gail continued, "no super-personal ones, or ones that are too risque. If you suggest one that's really out of line, we'll make you put three quarters in, and pour out your drink. I'm not pointing anyone out in particular who might do that - Dean, - I'm just saying - Frank, - that we want to have fun, but we don't want to make any of our guests uncomfortable. Oh, and lastly: everybody has to be honest. If you're not, my husband will know." She grinned at Cas, and he smiled back.

Frank rolled his eyes. "Oh, great. So you're gonna have God read our minds, and narc on us."

Gail shrugged. "What can I say? There are definitely perks being married to the Almighty. Besides, that's why we're not allowing anything too personal." She grabbed him by the arm. "Come on. Let's all sit down in the living room. We've got everything set up there."

"The living room?" he said skeptically. "How're you gonna fit - " He stood there, gaping. "Ohhh."

"Another advantage of being married to God," Gail said happily. "Instant home renovations." She looked around at everyone. "For those of you who haven't been here before, the house isn't usually this big. Cas just enlarged it for us for this party, and for Christmas. I didn't want you to think we're helping ourselves to the collection plates at the local churches, or anything."

Everyone laughed again as they all began to file into the living room. Gail grinned. She was definitely on a roll, tonight. She was just so happy to have everyone here. This was going to be so much fun. Even the guys looked like they were going to cooperate.

"I'll go first," Cas said eagerly. "Never have I ever...flown in an airplane. You see, you wouldn't think I would have, because I'm an Angel, but this one time - "

"OK, buddy, we don't necessarily need your life story, here," Dean said, nudging Cas. "But, thanks for leading off with an easy one. Drink up, everybody."

"Not so fast," Eric said. "I've never flown in an airplane." He threw a quarter in the bowl.

"Neither have I," Chuck said. Everyone looked at him in surprise. "But, I thought you said you went on a book tour for your Supernatural series, when you were a human," Laurel said.

Wilma had just taken a sip of her drink, and she sputtered now. "I'm sorry, everyone," she said, once she'd grabbed a napkin and composed herself. "This is just going to take a little getting used to."

"That's OK, it took us all a while to get used to," Bobby assured her.

"It's still kind of weird to me," Efram chipped in.

Wilma smiled. Everyone was being so kind. When Richard had first told her about these people, she had felt a little skeptical. But her husband was not the type to play practical jokes, and now she could see that every word was true. Richard had also cautioned her to expect a distinct resemblance between the principal actors on the film and their real-life counterparts, and she was glad that he had, because it was a little disconcerting.

"I was afraid to fly, so I took trains, or buses," Chuck admitted to Laurel now. He looked sharply at Dean, expecting to be made fun of. But Dean said nothing, because truth be told, Dean was afraid of flying, himself. Chuck tossed a quarter in.

"OK, me next," Gail said. "Never have I ever...played poker."

"Oh, right. Way to set your husband up, there," Frank said, rolling his eyes. He took a drink. "Well, ha, ha. Laugh's on you. Who hasn't?"

"Me," Laurel said, pitching in a quarter. "I never really had the opportunity."

"Well, we'll have to fix that," Chuck said, putting his arm around her. "I'll teach you how."

Barry was trying not to smirk. He'd played poker with Chuck at Cas's stag party, and quite honestly, Chuck thought he was better than he actually was. But they were all here to have fun, so he didn't comment. But he did say, "Never have I ever...been in a play."

"Hey, that's a good one," Ethan said, nodding his approval. "You're probably going to get a lot of us with that one." He threw a quarter in, and so did most of the others.

"Not all of us, though," Wilma said. She took a sip of her drink, smiling. "I was in a high school production of Oklahoma."

"What play were YOU in, Barry?" Sam asked their friend, curious.

"A few," Barry replied evasively. He and Tommy exchanged a quick glance, but no one picked up on it because they were all tossing their quarters in the bowl.

"Never have I ever...had an operation," Jody said, getting into the spirit. Frank winced, but she gave him a half-shrug. That had been a while back, and she'd also had an appendectomy, years before she had met Frank. Besides, she was feeling perfectly healthy now.

"That's kinda risky, with all the Hunters in the room," Bobby quipped, his beard twitching. He took a drink. "You'd probably be hard-pressed to find somebody in this room who HASN'T."

"I haven't," Becky said, throwing in a quarter. "Although now that I'm a human again, I guess it could happen."

Wilma gave her a double-take, but this time she didn't say anything. But she'd also had an appendectomy when she'd been in her early 20s, so she took a drink.

Cas tossed in his quarter. "I seem to be the only one here at a disadvantage," he said affably.

"Nope," Gabriel said, throwing his quarter in. "You're definitely not the only one." He looked at Gail. "I thought you said questions like that weren't allowed."

"Hey, it's not my fault you guys are older than time itself," Gail wisecracked. She gave Cas a kiss on the cheek. "But still, you look goooood."

Liz giggled, and Gabriel's lips twitched. OK, she kind of had him there. He and Cas DID look good.

"Never have I ever...been in court," Sam said, taking a sip of his beer. Dean gave him a brief glare, but Sam's brother took a drink. Dean had never told Nicole about him having briefly gone to jail for murder. He didn't really see the point. He was free now, and his record had been expunged. He and Nicole saw each other so seldom as it was. He didn't want to waste time talking about stuff like that with her.

Nicole took a drink, and Dean looked at her curiously. "I was on a jury," she said, hitting him on the arm. "Don't look at me like that."

Richard and Wilma each took a drink, too. "We were witnesses at a trial," Richard explained.

"No need to tell us," Sam said apologetically. "I'm sorry. Maybe that one was a bit intrusive."

"I've got one that isn't," Dean said. "Never have I ever...been to Europe." He took a drink, grinning at Gail. "This might be my favourite game ever," Dean told her, saluting her with his beer.

Gail's lips twitched as she took a sip from her glass of wine. Dean and Frank were drinking, they were happy, and they were participating, without complaint. Worked for her.

Quinn tossed in a quarter, and so did Rob and Eric.

"I've got one, but Gail might penalize me for it," Bobby said with a wicked grin. "Never have I ever...kissed someone of the same sex." He took a drink as Gail looked at him, astonished. Cas leaned over and whispered something in her ear, and she made a face. Crowley? she said, on thei private frequency. Cas nodded. Yikes. She would definitely have to get that story, sometime.

"Does it count if it's on the cheek?" Efram inquired. "I used to kiss my Grandpa on the cheek all the time."

Bobby's beard twitched again. "No," he said shortly, but did not elaborate.

Quarters started flying into the bowl as Barry and Tommy high-fived each other. "Score!" Tommy exclaimed, taking a drink of his beer. "Thanks for throwing us a softball, Bobby."

Dean grabbed a quarter, preparing to pitch it in, but Cas put a hand on his arm. "No, Dean. You have to drink."

"OK, this, I've gotta hear," Gabriel said, throwing his quarter in. He sat back in his chair, smirking.

"Cas, what the hell?!" Dean exclaimed.

"Remember Wyatt?" Cas said, taking a small sip of his wine.

Dean cursed under his breath as Sam threw his quarter in. "You realize you're never gonna hear the end of this, right?" Sam said delightedly. "Thanks, Bobby!"

"De nada," Bobby replied, flashing him a rare grin. "I owed Dean for the thing, at the place."

Frank was having the best time ever. He threw a quarter in, enjoying the look of embarrassment on Dean's face. Cas, on the other hand, looked happy to be taking a drink. Frank shook his head, smirking. What a weirdo. "Never have I ever...shot a gun," he said. He wanted to have a drink, and besides, poor Rob was behind. His son would be able to drink now. Both Dean and Frank had taken Rob to the shooting range.

Rob smiled gratefully at his dad, as he took a sip of his beer. Truthfully, he'd been a little concerned that this would be a very short game for him. Depending on the things that people said, he might be at a real disadvantage. He and Eric were the youngest people here, and they probably hadn't had nearly as many experiences as the others.

Eric took a drink too, and Frank's eyebrows raised, but he left it alone. This wasn't the time or place for that conversation.

But Chuck threw a quarter in, as did Laurel, Hester, and most of the Angels. "No fair," Riley commented. "Angels don't use guns."

Frank shrugged. "Hey, I was thirsty. Feel free to mention something you think I haven't done. But I've gotta warn you, Halo Boy, I've done a lot of stuff."

Kevin laughed. "'Halo Boy'? That's pretty good." He took a drink. Sam and Dean had given him a gun when he'd been a human, and Crowley had been looking for him. He'd shot it a couple of times when he had been alone, and heard a noise. Frank hadn't said anything about shooting a person, he'd just said shot a gun. Kevin had actually freaked out a little earlier, but he had been answering all the questions honestly.

"I've got a really good one," Wilma piped up. "I'm probably going to get everybody with this, even my own husband. Never have I ever...written a song."

"You've written a song?" Gail said, tossing a quarter in. "That's so cool!"

Wilma smiled as the quarters started to fly. "Well, it wasn't exactly a Top 40 hit, but they did play it on the radio from time to time," she said. "But I've always wanted to write music professionally, so when Richard told me he wanted a song for a certain scene in the Supernatural movie, I submitted something. The people on the staff liked it, so they're going to use it."

"Never have I ever...been in a hot air balloon," Henri said now.

"Good one," Ethan said. He and Karen threw in quarters, as did most of them. Barry, Tommy, Carolyn and Nicole all drank.

"Never have I ever...gone by a different name," Chuck said. "I used a pen name when I wrote my books." He drank, and so did the Winchesters, Cas, Gail, Frank, and Bobby. They had all used aliases on the occasions they had impersonated FBI agents.

"Never have I ever...given money to charity," Karen said.

Cas smiled at Gail, and then at Richard. They all drank, along with Karen, Ethan, and Wilma. So did Sam and Dean, Barry, Tommy, and Carolyn.

Liz took a drink, elbowing Gabriel. "See, I told you it's good karma," she told him. "Now you're losing the game, and you don't even get to drink."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Well, nobody's said anything for me, yet," he complained. He looked at Gail. "You're kind of handcuffing me by banning certain types of topics, Kitten. And, not in the good way."

Now it was Gail's turn to roll her eyes. Eric smirked. The young man didn't really know who Gabriel was, but he could tell that he must be a heavy hitter, based on what Eric had seen at the compound. But, from what Eric was seeing here and now, Gabriel also seemed like he liked a good time. It occurred to Eric to wonder if this guy was THE Gabriel, but because of his upbringing, he was too intimidated to ask. However, that didn't stop Eric from saying, "Never have I ever...cooked naked."

Quarters went flying. "No way," Frank said, throwing his in. "Please, tell me it wasn't bacon."

Most of the women were making faces of disgust now, but Gabriel smiled. "Finally," he said, taking a drink.

"Oh, ewww," Liz and Gail said at the same time, and then they laughed together.

"Doesn't anybody want to hear the story?" Gabriel said hopefully.

"NO!" Cas, Dean, Sam and Frank all chorused.

Nicole was shaking her head. Dean had mentioned Gabriel in passing, and she was getting a first-hand look of what her boyfriend had been talking about now. "Never have I ever...owned a pet," she said, figuring she'd change the subject.

Most people drank, even the Angels, because most of them had had some kind of a pet when they'd been humans. Cas smiled gently. "Do my sheep count?" he asked Gail.

She smiled back. "Sure, why not?" She threw her quarter in, while Cas took a sip.

"Never have I ever...played a musical instrument," Quinn said.

Sam looked at her. "I didn't know you played an instrument," he remarked.

"Piano," Quinn replied.

"Cool," Frank said, having a sip of his beer. "I play guitar. We should get a group together sometime."

"Never have I ever...written a poem," Becky said, figuring she should speak up. The game WAS kind of fun. And besides, she had to bide her time until she could figure out how to dose Sam's drink with all of these people around.

Most of the guests threw in a quarter, but Gabriel did not. Liz looked curiously at him. "I may have stuck a couple of psalms into a certain publication we've talked about before," he said airily, taking a drink.

"It's all right, Gabriel," Wilma said with a smile. "You're talking about the Bible, aren't you?"

"Nope. Penthouse Forum," the Archangel said, smirking.

Liz punched him on the arm. "Ow!" he exclaimed. "I thought you believed in non-violence."

"I do, but exceptions can, and should, be made," Liz quipped.

Paul grinned. "Never have I ever...been arrested," he said good-naturedly. Not that it was necessarily anything to be proud of, but he was way behind on quarters, and his competitive juices were flowing now. He figured he'd probably get a lot of them with that one, because these were the good guys. But Cas and Gail drank, as did Sam and Dean, Bobby, Tommy, and, somewhat surprisingly, Henri.

"Really, Pops?" Paul teased the older Angel. "Anything you wanna be telling me, here?"

Henri raised an eyebrow to him. "Protest," he said shortly. Everyone else glanced uneasily at each other, but Paul merely nodded.

"YOU were arrested?" Carolyn asked Cas and Gail curiously. "God and his wife?"

They looked at each other, uncomfortable now. This was supposed to be a party, and parties were supposed to be fun. There was no way the word "tribunal" was going to be mentioned, nor did they intend to explain anything about it in front of all these people who weren't in their lives at the time. The closest family members knew the story, of course, but...Gail threw Paul a quick glare. Thanks a lot, Paul.

"They probably got arrested for too many public displays of affection," Laurel said lightheartedly. She'd been around at the time of the tribunal and she knew it was a real sore spot for the couple. Paul hadn't been in Heaven during that time, and she didn't think that his gaffe had been deliberate. Still, Laurel wanted to deflect attention from the couple, so she said, "Never have I ever...baked a pie."

Cas smiled at her gratefully as he threw his quarter in the middle. "I would love to bake a pie, sometime," he remarked. "Maybe you can show me how, Laurel."

"Never baked one, eaten about a million," Dean grinned, tossing his quarter in.

"Never have I ever...hiked up a mountain," Rob said, taking a drink.

Chuck looked at him in surprise. "When did you do that?"

"When I was staying with those guys, in Vancouver," Rob replied. "There's a mountain called Grouse, and they call the hike up the Grouse Grind. A bunch of us went, the summer I was there."

"Wow. Good for you," Ethan remarked, nodding with approval. "I hiked up Hawk Mountain once, when I was training for the police academy. Congrats."

Cas took a sip of his drink. "What mountain did YOU climb, Cas?" Sam asked him with interest.

"Mount Olivet," Cas replied automatically, but he did not elaborate. Instead, he said, "Never have I ever...sailed on a ship." He and Gail clinked glasses lightly and smiled at each other.

"Does a party cruise count?" Jody asked, pausing with her drink halfway to her lips.

Cas was kissing Gail softly on her cheek now, saying something in her ear that made her smile wider.

"I hope it does, because I've been on one of those, too," Linda said.

"We need a ruling," Barry said to Gail. "Tommy and I went on a booze cruise a couple of years ago."

Cas and Gail were kissing now. Cas was stroking her cheek gently. He had just been reminding her of a very romantic night they had had on the ship on the way over here, to the New World. Even though their happiness once they'd gotten here had been short-lived, it was the first time they'd been married. Soon they would be unmarried again, as they were forced to complete the annulment ritual. But that didn't really matter. Their love could withstand any test.

"Hey! Your Lordship! Does it count, or not?" Linda said sharply. Paul and Gabriel both laughed.

"Does WHAT count?" Cas said, prompting more laughter.

"Never mind," Linda said, rolling her eyes. She took two sips of her drink. "Never have I ever...painted a picture."

Sam took a drink, as did Cas, Gabriel, and Wilma. "OK, I'll bite," Bobby said affably, throwing his quarter in. "I know that Sam used to paint a little when he was in college, but when did you two ever paint?" he asked the Angels.

Gabriel looked at Cas, winking at his Brother. "Ever heard of a little place called the Sistine Chapel?" Gabriel asked them.

"The two of you painted the Sistine Chapel?" Hester asked in a hushed voice.

"May-be," Gabriel said evasively. Cas looked as if he was about to say something, but then Gabriel gave him an inscrutable look and said, "Drink up, Brother," and both men drank. Gail glanced at Liz. They were definitely going to have to get THAT story, later on.

"Never have I ever...held a snake," Efram piped up.

Cas drank again. "It's a good thing I'm not a human, or I might become drunk," he remarked, smiling. He was having a wonderful time.

Nicole took a drink, and Dean looked at her in horror as he threw his quarter in. "What did you...when did you...?" he sputtered, screwing up his face in disgust.

She couldn't help but grin. Nicole knew about his snake phobia, and she thought it was hilarious. Dean was a manly man, a muscular, deep-voiced Alpha male who was reduced to a quivering piece of jelly anytime he saw a snake. "Ray's Reptile House," Nicole told her boyfriend. "When we were kids, we went there on a field trip. We handled snakes, and scorpions, and tarantulas. It's a lot easier to not be afraid of something if you've been exposed to it."

"I have so many jokes running around in my head right now, it might literally explode," Frank wisecracked, taking a drink. He'd picked up the occasional snake when he'd been a kid, goofing around with his buddies in the woods. He was pretty sure that most boys had, at one time or another. Except for Dean, apparently. Frank wondered if the question had been a strategic gambit on Efram's part, designed to elicit quarters from the female half of the group. Sure enough, sexist or not, all of the women except Nicole threw quarters in, their faces screwed up in repugnance.

And it seemed that Frank might have a point when Riley said a moment later, "Never have I ever...eaten an entire pizza." He took a drink, as did Rob, Eric, Dean, and Frank, himself. He was pretty sure none of the women would have ever done that.

"Yikes. That's all I have to say about that," Gail remarked. "Okay, never have I ever...been to a baseball game." All of their group who had been to New York City for the Tablet mission, except for Sam and Kevin, took a drink. So did Efram, Riley, Henri, Ethan, Karen, Richard, and Wilma. Gail smiled. "It's good to see some ladies represented." She looked at Liz and Gabriel, who had both thrown quarters in. "Next time we go, you two are coming with us."

"That's not exactly what I meant when I said that I wanted to get to third base with Liz," Gabriel quipped.

Frank leaned over and said something in Gail's ear, and his sister nearly spit out the mouthful of wine she'd been about to swallow. Gail made a mental note to share the giant weiner joke Frank had just told her with Liz in private, at another time.

"Never have I ever...learned a foreign language," Tommy said now, taking a drink. He'd had to have a working knowledge of quite a few foreign languages when he'd been travelling the globe as a journalist.

Cas and Gail both drank. She was pleased that Cas was doing so well. Yes, he'd been around since the Beginning, but the vast majority of that existence had been as a celestial being. Many of the items that were being brought up were very human experiences. But actually, Cas was doing better at the game than she was. Geez. Maybe she should get out more.

Sam and Dean drank too, as did their girlfriends. But Frank and Jody did not, nor did Rob. But Eric did. "I live in Florida," he explained. "With all the Cubans there, Spanish is practically a native language."

Hester wasn't used to drinking like this, but she had to admit that she was having a good time. It certainly beat sitting around the house all alone, with no one but her cats for company. "Never have I ever..." She hesitated. Was she really going to say this, in front of everyone? But she didn't want them to think she was a stick-in-the-mud, and she couldn't think of anything else at the moment. "Never have I ever...written a fan letter."

Chuck looked at her, and then he burst out laughing. "I knew it!" he exclaimed.

"All right, Charles. I admit it," Hester said, taking a drink. She looked at the others. "I suppose it's kind of a funny story, now," she went on. "I wrote a fan letter to Charles...I mean, Chuck. I suppose I should start calling him that, since all of you do."

"You wrote a fan letter to your own brother?" Linda asked her, puzzled.

"It was an understandable mistake," Hester said, a little defensively. "He wrote those Supernatural books under an assumed name, after all." She looked at Dean. "I really enjoyed those books."

Chuck grinned. "She had a few suggestions too, as I recall," he commented, tossing his quarter in. "More hot romances for the guys, more detailed descriptions of their physiques...stuff like that."

Nicole's eyebrows shot up. She could see Hester eyeing Dean. Nicole's first impulse had been to laugh, but she thought that would be rude, so she merely threw her quarter in.

Becky took a drink. "I wrote Chuck a fan letter, too," she confessed to Hester, and the two women smiled at each other as quarters went flying into the bowl.

"Never have I ever...gone surfing," Richard said. Almost all of them threw another quarter in. "You should try it; it's exhilarating," Richard commented to the group in general.

"Never have I ever...thrown a football," Ethan said. All of the females threw quarters in, as did Cas and Gabriel.

"Okay, this is starting to get a little sexist, again," Gail complained, looking at her dwindling supply of quarters.

"You're right," Sam agreed. "So, I'll say, Never have I ever...been to Canada."

There. That was more like it. Gail drank, flashing Sam a grateful smile. Quinn and Becky both frowned at that, throwing their quarters in. So did most of the Angels, except for Henri and Liz.

"Never have I ever...been on television," Cas said eagerly. He'd been getting caught up in the game, but of course, he'd gotten the majority of the assembled group with that one, without really meaning to. Everyone but himself, Ethan, Becky, and Riley threw quarters in. Frank had been set to as well, but then Jody had gently reminded him that he had been on CNN. That was right; he'd forgotten. Him and Matty. Frank felt a pang of sadness for his fallen friend as he took a break. That was the problem with re-living some of the moments of your life; it wasn't all rainbows and unicorns. Jody put her hand on her husband's leg and gave him a brief squeeze, and he smiled at her.

"Never have I ever...worn glasses," Hester said. There. She'd thought of another one. She took a drink, and Frank sighed and took one, too.

"Why did you take a drink, Frank?" Linda asked him.

"He wears reading glasses, sometimes," Rob said gleefully.

Frank looked at his son, making a face. "Het, you'll be wearing them too in a few years, if you keep staring at those computer screens all the time."

"Amen to that," Henri said, sipping at his wine. "All you young folks, and your devices."

"Gail wanted me to wear glasses, when I taught at the Academy," Cas piped up.

"Now, why would you need...ohhhh," Nicole said, and she and Liz both laughed.

"What? What am I missing here?" Ethan asked the women.

"Nothing. Never mind," Gail said quickly. "Moving on..."

"Never have I ever...dressed up for Hallowe'en," Karen said, and almost everyone drank.

Gabriel threw a quarter in, looking at Cas. "Looks like we got the short shrift again, Brother," the Archangel groused.

"Oh, but I HAVE dressed up for a Hallowe'en party," Cas said. He smiled at Henri. "I went as a hero."

Henri dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Merci bien, Mon Dieu." Shortly after he'd gotten settled in Heaven, Cas had stopped by to give Henri his grandparents' location there, and they'd had a joyous visit. It meant the world to Henri to have seen his grandparents together and happy, especially after how his grandmother had died. He'd made no mention of that ugly incident, of course, but Cas had already paved the way for Henri's visit by telling his grandparents that Henri had been a crusader for justice on Earth, and they'd told him how proud they were of him.

Dean grinned now. "Never have I ever...punched someone in the face," he said, taking a drink. Boy, it was a good thing he didn't have to take a drink for every single person he'd punched in the face, though, or he'd be drunk as hell. He exchanged looks with Sam, Cas, and Bobby, and the men all smiled. They were probably all thinking the same thing. Frank drank too, and so did Jody. Even Gail took a drink, remembering how much it had hurt her hand, but how satisfying it had felt at the time. Eric drank too, as did Riley, Kevin, Linda, Paul, Henri, Tommy, and Ethan.

"Wow, what a violent group," Liz said, throwing her quarter in. "Let's think of something a bit more civilized, shall we? Never have I ever...pumped gas."

"Really? You have?" Gabriel said to her with surprise. He tossed a quarter in, from his dwindling pile.

"And you haven't?" she asked him.

"Please. Archangel," Gabe said, by way of explanation.

Gail threw a quarter in. "Well, I'm no Archangel, but I don't drive, so - "

Dean faked a cough, saying, "Thank God," into his hand, and Rob laughed. As Gail threw him a glare, Dean tried to deflect what he had just done by saying, "That's no excuse." He took a quick drink. "Cas, man, you've gotta show her how to pump gas. Every woman should know how to do that."

"I'm glad to do it, Dean," Cas protested. He wanted to add that he thought the man should be the one to do it, but he wasn't sure if he should. Cas didn't want the women to think he was being a sexist, if he made a statement like that. He just thought that it was the gentlemanly thing to do. But to go back to the original source of the question, from everything that Cas had heard, Liz's husband had been no gentleman. That was probably why she'd been forced to do it herself.

"Never have I ever...had a broken bone," Quinn said. Bobby grinned. "A tactical error," he pointed out. Once again, with this many Hunters in the room, it'll be hard to find someone who hasn't."

"What happened to you?" Sam asked Quinn, taking a sip of his beer.

"No biggie," Quinn replied. "I broke my arm falling out of a tree I'd climbed, when I was a kid."

Becky threw a quarter into the bowl. She hadn't realized how fortunate she'd been. She had always been perfectly healthy Hopefully, she would be this time, too.

"This one'll even things out for the women," Carolyn announced. "Never have I ever...gone on a diet."

"Yeah, I guess you've got us, there," Ethan acknowledged, throwing his quarter in.

Linda and Gail were the only two females to lose a quarter. "I've always been thin," Linda said with a half-shrug. "My problem was never getting too much to eat growing up, it was not getting enough," Gail commented simply. Cas took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He knew that she'd not only been hungry for food, but also starved for affection.

"Never have I ever...met a celebrity," Nicole said.

"Oh, yeah?" Dean asked his girlfriend with a raised eyebrow. "What celebrity have you met?"

"Ummm...I work on a movie set, with a bunch of them," she said dryly. "Cheer up, that means you get to drink, too."

"What, those guys?" Dean scoffed, although he did take a drink. "I thought you meant REAL celebrities."

"Hey, don't sell those guys short," Richard said after he took a drink. "This movie's going to blow you away."

"When will you be finished filming?" Cas asked him.

"We hope to be done by Christmas," the producer replied. "Then it'll go through post-production, for a spring release. It'll be good to be home."

"It sure will," Nicole agreed. She looked at Dean, and the couple smiled at one another. It WOULD be good to be in the same hemisphere as each other, Nicole thought. She looked at Cas and Gail. "I saw some of the dailies," Nicole told them. "You guys are going to be amazed. I think you'll be very happy to see how you're portrayed."

Gail smiled, putting her glass down for a moment. "I can't wait," she said. She touched Cas's face with both of her hands. "I'm so excited to see us, immortalized on screen. Not that it'll be US, exactly, but...you know what I mean." Then she looked at the others, still smiling. "Never have I ever...cried at a movie."

"Oh, come on!" Dean exclaimed.

Frank took a drink. "Come on, Winchester," he said, smirking. "'Fess up. You know you have. I'm not ashamed to admit it, so you shouldn't be, either."

"Hey, just 'cause you're a crybaby..." Dean started to say, as Bobby drank. "Come on, Boy," Bobby said gruffly. "Field Of Dreams. Am I right?"

"Absolutely," Henri said, taking a drink.

"Titanic," Sam chipped in, drinking. "Gets me every time."

Dean gave his brother a baleful look. "You're kidding, right?"

"Brian's Song," Ethan said, and several of the men murmured their agreement.

"You've never cried at a movie, Dean? Never?" Liz asked him.

"Cas, is he lying?" Quinn asked Cas with a half-smile. Now, Dean's best friend faced a dilemma. Should he say?

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Dean," Tommy said, taking a sip of his beer. "We've all done it."

"Yeah, but it's different for you," Dean said automatically. "You're..."

"What, Dean?" Tommy asked suspiciously. "I'm what?"

"Canadian?" Paul quipped with a grin.

"Yes, we Canadians are a very sensitive people," Richard joked. There was silence for a moment, and then the moment passed. Then, Dean took a drink.

"A - ha!" Frank crowed triumphantly. "I knew it!"

"Shut up, Frank," Dean said to him.

"Geez, if I'd known it was going to turn out to be such a 'thing', I would never have said it," Gail said, shaking her head.

"Yeah, well, look who you're married to," Dean pointed out. "Cas cries at everything. I'm pretty sure he cried at Rambo."

"With all that bad acting, you can't blame him," Jody quipped. "Never have I ever...meditated."

"Really?" Sam said, delighted. "Way to go, Jodes." He and Jody took a drink, as did Bobby, and Richard. "Well, wouldja look at that," Jody remarked. "Bobby Singer, of all people."

Bobby shrugged. "Still waters run deep, dear," he said, smiling.

"So do piles of b.s.," Dean said under his breath, throwing his quarter in.

"You've meditated, Jody?" Linda said with interest, taking a drink. Linda had tried it a few times, but she'd never really gotten the hang of it. If she needed to achieve inner peace, all Linda would have to do was stab a Demon in the face. She glanced at Paul. How ironic. They still hadn't told Kevin about their burgeoning relationship. She supposed they'd better do it soon. It was getting harder and harder to keep it a secret.

"When I had my mastectomy, they told me it might help," Jody replied. "I'm really not sure if it did, but I think we could all use a little serenity in our lives, couldn't we?"

"No kidding," Gabriel said, nodding enthusiastically. Cas looked at his Brother, cocking an eyebrow. Since when had Gabriel ever...Oh. Now, Cas understood. Liz was smiling at Gabriel now, nodding with approval.

Frank and Dean had noticed that too, and they traded smirks. "What?" Gabe said to them. Frank was looking at Dean. "Should I say it, or do you want to?"

"Say what?" Cas asked curiously.

Liz rolled her eyes. "They're trying to imply that Gabriel is whipped."

"That's a terrible thing to say," Cas deadpanned. "Gabriel, if anyone tries to whip you, let me know. I will help to defend you."

"No, Cas..." Liz said hesitantly. Was he joking, or not? She honestly couldn't tell. "That's not what I meant."

Cas broke into a grin. "I know what it means, Liz. I was only joking. Dean used to accuse me of that all the time."

"Actually, I believe it was ME he was accusing," Gail said, folding her arms across her chest. "Do you have anything to say about it now, Dean?"

"Great party," he said to her quickly. "That's what I've got to say. Great party."

She looked at him for another moment, and then she smiled. "Good answer."

Gabriel was smirking. Obviously, he wasn't the only one who was a little bit intimidated by Gail. Of course, it was the guys who talked the most macho game who were usually the most tamed once they actually got into a relationship. Gabe should know. Not that he was ever going to admit it, of course. "Never have I ever...smoked a cigar," he said, in a bid to reassert his masculinity a little.

Most of the younger males and women threw their quarters in, but Wilma did not. "Don't ask," she said, smiling. "I just tried one of Richard's one day, just to see what the fuss was all about. Don't worry; you're not missing out on anything. Blech."

"Never have I ever...played Candy Crush," Kevin piped up, taking a drink.

"Thanks!" Gail said to the young Angel, raising her glass to him. "I was starting to get worried. I'm almost out of quarters."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Chuck said glumly. "I'm one quarter away from getting knocked out of the game."

"Me, too," Hester commiserated with her brother. "I suppose that when you have a disadvantaged upbringing, you don't get to have as many experiences as the others."

"Listen, lady, I'm an Archangel, and I'm in the same boat as you are," Gabriel groused. "And I notice that our second-generation Archangel isn't doing any better," he added, nodding towards Paul.

"Me, neither," Linda said. "OK, never mind. Since Cas gave me an appetite, I thought I'd go to the dining room and get some of the snacks you put out, Gail."

"By all mean, help yourselves," Gail said happily. "That goes for everybody."

Cas smiled warmly at her. He was remembering how proud she had been to put out all the food. They had chopped the vegetables themselves, and Gail had even found a recipe for a fruit punch online. The punchbowl was sitting on a side table in the dining room, just waiting to be tasted. "Please, try the fruit punch," Cas said to everyone. "Gail worked very hard to make it."

She laughed. "My darling husband is exaggerating. "But I WOULD like peoples' opinions on it."

"What's it got in it?" Sam asked with interest.

"About ten different kinds of fruit, plus a bit of ginger ale," Gail replied. "And there's a bottle of champagne on ice next to it, if anybody wants to spike theirs a little."

"Sounds good," Sam said, smiling.

"I'll get you one, if you want," Becky said. "I have to go to the washroom, anyway."

"Do you want us to wait?" Cas asked her.

"No, go ahead," Becky replied, rising from her chair.

"I'll be quick, then," Cas said eagerly. "I have a very good one. Never have I ever...fallen in love at first sight."

"That's easy," Becky said, taking a quick sip of her drink. "Haven't we all? I'll be right back." She hurried out of the room, holding her clutch purse in her hand. Finally. This was her chance.

Cas and Gail touched glasses again, smiling at each other. "Aw, geez, here we go again," Frank complained. "Why do we let him pick?" He threw a quarter in, shrugging at Jody. "Sorry," he apologized to his wife.

"No need," Jody said, throwing in her quarter. "I don't believe in love at first sight."

"Of course not. You're married to Frank," Dean wisecracked. He threw a quarter in, hoping Nicole wouldn't mind too much. He didn't believe in love at first sight, either. But apparently, Nicole didn't, either, because in went her quarter.

Quinn's quarter was next, but Sam drank. Interesting, Nicole thought. She and Quinn weren't really confidantes any more, if they ever were. But Dean had told Nicole that things had cooled somewhat between his brother and Quinn. In fact, Nicole had been a little surprised to see the psychic here today.

Sam was actually feeling a little strange about having invited Quinn. She was cordial to him, but he didn't have the same feelings for her as he'd thought he had been when they'd first gotten together. If he was honest with himself, Sam should probably admit that he had mainly invited Quinn to come with him to discourage Becky. That wasn't fair to Quinn, though. Sam promised himself to have a chat with her after tonight's party.

While the rest of the guests were bantering with each other about the game, Becky was in the dining room, standing by the punch bowl. She had taken the flask out of her purse and was trying to pull the stopper out of it now. But - it - was - stuck. Crap! Somebody was going to come along in a minute, and she was going to miss her chance. She pulled really hard, and the stopper finally came out. But she had yanked so hard that she lost her grip on the flask and it upended, emptying the contents into the punch bowl.

Oh, no! Becky stood frozen in place, wondering what she should do now. She could still fill up a cup for Sam and take it to him, but now everybody else who drank the punch was going to be affected by the potion, too. How was that even going to work? The book had said how to make the stuff, but really, nothing about how you were supposed to use it once you made it. Becky hadn't actually thought that far ahead.

What should she do? Should she try to throw the fruit punch out? No. No way. The bowl was much too big, and it would probably be way too heavy for her to carry. Maybe she should just tell them she'd sampled it, and it wasn't any good. But that would hurt Gail's feelings, and then Cas would get mad.

She heard voices, getting closer. Crap! Too late! She shoved the flask back in her purse and grabbed a plate, putting some food on it.

Linda entered the dining room first. "It doesn't matter whether I've been married or not, Gabriel," she said to the Archangel.

"Well, call me old-fashioned, but I always thought you were supposed to be in love when you got married," he said to her.

Linda sighed. "Not when you've got old-school, Asian parents," she said. She grabbed a plate. "Are you eating?"

"Nahhhh, I'm just gonna try some of Gail's punch," Gabriel told her. He moved over to the table where the punch was. Becky was standing there, motionless.

"Ummm...excusez-moi," Gabriel said to her. Becky moved away from the punchbowl. Crap. Well, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. It was obvious that Gabriel and Liz were a couple now, and who knew if the potion would even work on an Archangel? Not knowing what else to do, Becky took her plate, tucking her purse under her arm, and went back to the living room.

People were starting to get knocked out of the game pretty quickly now. Hester put her last quarter in, and then she sat back. Then Paul went, and then Chuck. Hester and Paul stayed put, but Chuck went to the dining room. Laurel and Efram were eliminated next, and they stayed to watch.

Then Gail and Kevin were knocked out, and she smiled at the young Angel. "Come on, let's go get something to eat," she said to Kevin. The two of them went to the dining room just as Linda and Gabriel were coming out. They both had glasses of punch in their hands. "Try it," Linda said to her son, gesturing with her glass of punch. "It's very good."

Kevin got a cup of punch, but Gail didn't. She was happy to see that both Linda and Gabriel had gotten some, and now Kevin. But she thought, as the hostess, she should hold off, in case others wanted to try it, too. If she had to, she could whip up another batch.

Becky was the next to be knocked out of the game, and then, Liz. As Becky sat back in her chair to eat, she was keeping an eye on the people who were drinking the punch. Liz went to the dining room for some food, but she didn't take any punch, because she'd never really cared for fruit punch, even when she'd been a human.

Quinn and Rob were next to go, and both of them stayed for a few minutes to watch the game. But then Eric got eliminated with the next one, and the two young men went to load up their plates. But neither one of them had any punch, because they were drinking beer. Both of them were in pretty good spirits, because they had actually lasted a lot longer than they'd thought they were going to.

Gail, Liz and Kevin came back to the living room to watch the game. Barry was the next to go, and he went to get himself some punch. It looked good, and he'd promised Gail he would try some. "What does everybody think?" Gail asked the people who were drinking it. "It's great, Gail," Kevin enthused. "I might go back for more."

Gail looked so happy when he'd said that, so Rob was reconsidering now. He hadn't really had the chance to thank her for everything she had done for him and Eric back at the compound. "Hey, Barry," Rob called out to their friend. "Can you bring me back a cup of that punch?"

"Sure," Barry said agreeably. Then he hurried out of the room. He wanted to get back, to see who was going to win the game.

Carolyn and Ethan were eliminated on the next one, and then it was Riley's turn to go. Carolyn and Ethan stayed to watch, but Riley went to get food and a glass of punch. Barry came back with his and Rob's cups, both filled with punch. Barry took a swig of his, and then sat it down on the end table beside his chair. Things were getting competitive between the remaining contestants now, and the questions were becoming more personal, as a result.

"Never have I ever...worn bikini underwear," Sam said, grinning. He took a drink, and Becky was so enthralled with the image that produced in her mind that she reached for her glass of water on the end table and grabbed Barry's cup, instead. She drank from it without even realizing what she was doing.

"Oh, now you're not playing fair," Frank complained. "I thought questions like that were illegal."

Gail shrugged. "I'm the judge, and I'll allow it," she said, smirking. "If for no other reason than for the entertainment value, alone."

Richard and Wilma looked at each other with smiles on their faces, and then, they drank. Nicole laughed, throwing a quarter in the bowl as Richard pointed his finger at her. "We will never speak of this, once we leave this house," her boss said, but his lips were twitching.

That quarter had eliminated Nicole, but she stayed to watch as Jody pitched in a quarter, but Frank did not. Gail and Liz burst out laughing. Gail's brother took a drink, and then he shrugged. "Hey, can I help it if my wife likes to objectify me?"

Jody rolled her eyes, rising from her seat. "I'm going to get some food," she said to the room in general. "Feel free to tell my husband that there's such a thing as oversharing."

"You're telling me," Bobby said, throwing his last quarter in. "I'd come with you, but I'm pretty sure I just lost my appetite."

Henri threw his last quarter in without comment. Frank was eliminated next, and he left the room, joking that he'd better see if Jody was still speaking to him. Then Karen was eliminated, and she sat back, holding her husband's hand as the game went on.

There were a couple more topics broached, and then finally, Tommy got knocked out.

"Last five standing," Gail announced. "Dammit!" Tommy exclaimed. "So close!"

"Go get something to eat, you guys," Frank said around a mouthful of food. "The punch is good, too. Way to go, kiddo," he complimented his sister.

"We will, but we've gotta see how this turns out, first," Barry said.

Gail was smiling. "The last five standing are Wilma, Sam, Cas, Richard, and Dean," she said to everyone. "We have prizes for the top 5 finishers, so everybody's a winner, really."

"Come on, Wilma," Nicole cheered her boss's wife on. "Represent."

But the next one was Wilma's undoing. Still, she felt unaccountably proud that she had outlasted most of the partygoers. Gail went to a table that was set up in the corner of the living room and presented Wilma with a wrapped gift as everyone clapped.

Cas was the next one to be knocked out, and Gail handed him a gift. "Truthfully, I didn't expect to get this far," Cas said. He walked over to Tommy. "Here. You should have this," Cas said to his friend. "I don't feel it would be fair of me to keep it. I was just playing for fun, anyway."

Now it was between Richard and the Winchesters, but Dean was going a little easy, because Richard was Nicole's boss, and they didn't know him all that well. It was kind of a shame it hadn't been Frank, or Cas, or even Gail. Dean allowed himself the luxury of fantasizing for a minute about the amount of screwing around they could have done. But maybe it was just as well.

"Never have I ever...eaten brussels sprouts," Dean soft-pedalled, and all three of the men took a drink. "When have YOU ever eaten brussels sprouts?" Gail asked him incredulously. "I don't know, but I have," Dean insisted vaguely.

Richard was regarding the brothers coolly. Now that he'd made it to the top three, he kind of wanted to go all the way. As it was, he was happy that he and his wife had both made it into the medals, so to speak. He wondered how much Sam and Dean were like their characters, and vice versa. Maybe there was something there that he could use. Then, he grinned. "Never have I ever...sung a Madonna song."

But to Richard's surprise, both of the brothers drank. "You thought you were gonna get me with that one, didn't you?" Dean said, grinning. And Richard would have gotten him, too, if they hadn't all sung "Like A Virgin" to tease Cas, that one time.

"Relax, I've got this," Sam said to Richard, He looked at Dean, then grinned. "Never have I ever...seen a foreign film, complete with subtitles."

"Dammit!" Dean swore, as Sam and Richard both drank. He flipped his last quarter in.

"See, Dean? I told you it would benefit you to broaden your horizons," Sam gloated.

Dean accepted his present from Gail, then put his arm around Nicole.

"The tension is mounting, ladies and gentlemen," Frank said in his best sportscaster voice. "Two very worthy opponents, battling toe to toe, for the crown. One will walk out of here the winner, and the other one will just...walk out of here."

Several people laughed, as Richard and Sam took each other's measure. It was Richard's turn. He was thinking hard, now. What could he have done that Sam hadn't? "Never have I ever...read Wuthering Heights," Richard said, but Sam grinned. "Sorry, Richard," he said, taking a drink. "You're gonna have to try a lot harder than that."

Richard nodded, as Sam tried to think of the one that could be the winner. There were a lot of things he could use, but he was pretty sure that Gail would disqualify him if he said anything about digging up a corpse, or killing a shapeshifter. Never mind the game; she'd probably kick him right out of the house.

"Never have I ever...won First Place in a debate," Sam said with a half-smile.

"Dammit! Second Place!" Richard exclaimed, smiling. He tossed his last quarter in, then stood and extended his hand for Sam to shake. Gail gave Richard his gift, and Sam grinned, looking down at the bowl full of quarters. "Look at all those coins," he remarked. "Too bad they don't still have arcades. We could play for days."

"What are you gonna do with all that loot?" Frank asked him.

Sam's grin turned wicked. "I might just wait until your back is turned, and dump it all in your car."

"Try it, Winchester," Frank warned him good-naturedly. "But if you do, it'll be on."

Both men laughed, and Sam reached into his back pocket for his wallet. "Actually, I know exactly what I'm gonna do," he declared. He took out a sheaf of bills and walked back over to Richard, pressing them into his hand. "For the shelter," Sam told him.

"Thank you, Sam," Richard said sincerely.

People started to get up and mill around. Some were still eating, and a few of them drifted into the dining room now to get some food. Sam helped himself to a cup of punch, and after a moment's hesitation, so did Dean. Sam looked at his brother in surprise. "Expanding my horizons," Dean said, shrugging.

Now that the ice had been broken, everyone was talking animatedly. Gail was poking Barry. "What play were you in, and what part did you play?" she asked him.

"I'm in a local production of Grease, playing Danny Zuko," he replied, and then he clapped a hand over his mouth. Dammit!

"Oh, sure. You just tell her," Tommy groused good-naturedly. He looked at Gail. "He was too embarrassed to tell anyone, he said," Tommy said to her. "He didn't even tell ME. Carolyn and I had to do some sleuthing. He was sneaking out of the house, and I was afraid he might be having an affair."

"Come on, Tommy, you know I would never do that," Barry protested. "I love you. I was just self-conscious. I didn't want to tell you guys in case I was a big flop."

"So, Tommy and I followed him one day, just like the movies," Carolyn said, smiling. "And you know what? He's fantastic! He could be on Broadway!"

"Really?" Gail said, intrigued. "Cas and I will have to come and see you, then."

"'Greased lightning, go, greased lightning'," Frank sang, grinning. "We'll all have to come and see you."

Barry winced. "Why, so you can heckle me?"

"No," Frank said sincerely. "I admire you for having the guts to get up there and do that."

Barry smiled. He was kind of proud of himself, actually. He'd always wanted to be in a stage musical. But he was a little surprised he had just blurted it out like that.

Meanwhile, Liz and Gabriel were standing in the hallway which led to the spare rooms that Cas had created as an addition to the house. Gabe had grabbed her by the hand and popped her over there, so he could kiss her in private. The two of them had been canoodling for a couple of minutes, and then Liz said, "Will you tell me where you went last night? Normally, I wouldn't pry, but you were being so evasive. Besides, if you and I are going to have a relationship, I need to feel like you're not keeping things from me. So, I'll ask you again: Where were you last night?"

"I went to your husband's bar," Gabriel answered her honestly. Crap! He hadn't intended to tell her that, at least, not now. Maybe not ever. But the cat was out now. Why had he told her that? But Liz was looking at him with wide eyes, and since he'd opened up his big yap, he would have to tell her, now. Gabriel sighed.

VIGNETTE - SHAME ON THE MOON

Gabriel hadn't been able to help himself. He'd resisted for as long as he could. But he just had to see for himself what kind of a first-class dick would have treated a literal Angel like Liz that badly.

So he'd told her that he was taking off for a while, and as usual, Liz hadn't questioned him. Gabriel knew the name of the bar where Gerald worked, and its location. So he'd popped himself down there, telling himself it was just to see.

He'd waved a hand over himself, changing into jeans and a flannel shirt. Working men's clothes for a working-class bar. Then he'd smirked. It was a good thing the Winchesters couldn't see him now. He would never hear the end of it.

Gabe walked into the bar and looked around. He had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. It was every bad cliche, all rolled into one. Scuffed-up wooden tables and chairs. Initials carved into the tables. American flags on the walls, and Christmas lights he was pretty sure remained up all year long. Sports on the TV, and two kinds of music to choose from on the jukebox: country, and Western. Guys like Barry and Tommy or Paul would be rolling the dice if they even walked into a place like this.

He went over to the bar and sat on one of the stools. "Beer," he said to the bartender, who gave him a curt nod. A moment later, the man placed an opened bottle of beer in front of Gabriel, who peered at the bartender's name tag. Ned. Yeah, he'd thought the man looked too old to be Liz's husband.

"Gerald working tonight?" Gabriel asked the bartender, putting some money on the bar. It was more than enough for the beer. Gabriel had watched a detective movie or two.

Ned looked at the money for a second, then took it. "Who wants to know?"

Gabriel was puzzled now. He didn't remember the movies he'd seen covering a question like that. "Me," he stated simply.

"And who are you?" Ned asked suspiciously.

"A friend," Gabe said evasively.

"Well, if you were a friend of his, wouldn't you know?" Ned said, somewhat logically.

Gabriel tried to think of a response to that. While he was thinking, another man walked over and sat on the stool beside him. "You're looking for Gerry?" the newcomer said.

"Yes," Gabriel confirmed. Now, they were getting somewhere.

"You packing?" the man inquired.

"What?" Gabe said blankly.

"Are. You. Packing?" his neighbour said again. This time he said it slowly, as if Gabriel was mentally challenged.

"Packing," Gabriel mused aloud. Then the light dawned, and he smiled. "Oh! You want to know if I have a gun!"

The man and Ned exchanged incredulous glances. What the hell kind of weirdo was this guy? But after a minute, Ned decided it probably didn't matter. "You're too late, if you're looking to take a strip off him," he told the Archangel. "He's dead."

Gabriel's mouth fell open. "He is? How?"

"Shot, by a jealous husband," Ned replied matter-of-factly. "That's why we wondered if you were armed, too. You wouldn't be the first one who was. Gerry'd always managed to duck them before, but that night, he was too slow. Or, you could have been looking for him on account of the jar."

"The jar?" Gabriel repeated. His head was spinning. "What jar?"

"He kept a jar here on the bar, for donations," Ned said, gesturing. "Told people he and his wife would appreciate any help the community could give them. She had leukemia, and she was waiting for a bone marrow transplant. She worked for as long as she could, but then the poor thing got sick. She used to come in here every once in a while. Pretty girl. Nice, too. Way nicer than that son of a bitch deserved. Anyway, they had hefty medical bills to pay, so Gerry put out the jar, and most of us kicked in whatever we could. He put a picture of - " He stopped. "Of - " Ned looked at the other man. "What was her name again?"

"Liz," Gabriel said quietly.

"Yeah! Liz! That was it!" Ned exclaimed. "Did you know her?"

"Kind of," Gabriel replied. He grabbed the beer bottle and drank from it.

Ned relaxed visibly. Whether it was because Gabriel had said that he knew Liz or because he'd finally had a drink, the Archangel wasn't sure. But, in any case, Ned opened up now.

"Yeah," he reminisced. "Gerry kept a picture of Liz next to the jar on the bar here, and he told everybody who came in here what was going on. When they seen her sweet face and heard how that damn disease was ravaging her body, they all put money in the jar. Even the foreigners."

Gabriel's hands curled into fists for a moment. He didn't want to hear about how the leukemia had ravaged poor Liz's vessel, and he also didn't want to hear about Ned's thoughts on "foreigners". But this was really not what he'd expected to hear about Gerald at all. Shot by a jealous husband? Absolutely. But, telling people about the suffering his poor wife was going through, and asking for donations to help her? Not so much.

"I had no idea," Gabe said softly.

Ned smirked. "Neither did we. Imagine our surprise when we found out that Liz died three years before that. That son of a bitch. All that time, he'd been playing on our sympathies, collecting God knows how much money in that jar, when she'd been dead that whole time. I guess the joke was on us."

Gabriel's eyes flashed dark purple, and a couple of the bottles behind the bar broke. Ned wheeled around, startled. "Well now, how in the hell did that happen?" he asked rhetorically.

"I told you, you've gotta crank the heat up in here," the bar patron sitting beside Gabriel piped up. "The weather's getting colder, and the liquid in them expands."

Gabriel pressed his lips tightly together. He really didn't want to start anything with these guys, but this whole thing was exactly the way Liz had described it. A working-class, redneck bar, where people had more opinions than brains. Patronizing Liz, while giving Gerald their tacit approval to cheat on her, right and left. What the little lady didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Gabriel could just picture Gerry telling her that he had to work late, so he could earn more money to pay for her medical bills. Making Liz feel like it was her fault that her husband came home tired every night.

"'Course, we didn't find out about everything that Gerry was up to until he got shot," Ned continued. "But to tell you the truth, it didn't really come as much of a surprise. Not if you know Gerry. But his wife was like a damn Saint, or something. She'd come in here and wait for him to get off shift sometimes, and she was the sweetest little thing. None of us could figure out how a guy like Gerry ever got a woman like her. But they're both gone now, and life goes on, right? Want another beer?"

"No, thanks," Gabriel said in a subdued voice. He got up and left the bar, and then he walked around the streets of the town for a while, thinking about what life must have been like for Liz here. She was not a stupid woman, by any means. Probably too naive and trusting, definitely too self-sacrificing. Too ready to believe the best of everyone. Even a sleazebag like Gerald. Even a reprobate like Gabriel. Gerald must have treated her decently once, or Gabe doubted she would have ever married the guy. But with somebody like Liz, it was hard to tell. Maybe she'd just fallen for the guy's line of b.s., or maybe she'd looked at him as a reclamation project. Or maybe, just maybe, she'd been naive enough to expect that the dick she had married would actually step up to the plate and treat her as she deserved.

Gabriel returned to the bar at closing time, just in time to see the last few stragglers leave. Ned left a few minutes later, locking up behind himself.

Gabe stood there and stared at the place. Why was he still here? Gerry was dead and in Hell, Gabriel was sure of it. There was no way a guy like that would go to the Garden. No way. Gabriel would probably ask Cas to keep an eye out, just in case, but the Archangel was confident that Gerry would be one of Crowley's rank and file now. So, why was Gabriel still here?

He popped himself inside the bar. It was dark and quiet now. No TV, no Christmas lights, and most mercifully of all, no music. The tables were wiped, and the floor was as clean as it was ever going to get. Gabriel looked at the bar. He could picture Gerald there, pouring drinks and accepting tips. Charming the ladies. Telling customers all about his poor, brave little wife, who was battling leukemia. He prayed every day that they would find a donor who was a match. Every single day. But in the meantime, medical bills were steep, and his wife's treatments were very hard on the poor thing. People would empty out their pockets and jam bills into the bar, and Gerry would thank them, and say that God would surely bless them for their generosity. With these donations and the Good Lord's help, Liz was sure to make a full recovery.

Gabriel waved his hands, smashing all of the bottles lined up on the shelves behind the bar. Then he looked at the jukebox and it made a crackling noise, then caught on fire. Gabriel hated country music, anyway. The two television sets that were mounted on the ceiling at either end of the bar imploded.

OK, enough. Enough. Gabriel made himself calm down. Other people made their livelihoods here too, and he had no beef with them. He supposed what he had just done was pretty juvenile, and he could restore everything back to normal if he chose. But, he didn't want to. Now, maybe for the first time, Gabe understood the extreme anger that Castiel felt any time anyone even looked sideways at Gail.

Gabriel snapped his fingers and vanished.

Liz was looking at Gabriel, open-mouthed.

"I can't say I'm sorry your husband the dick is dead, 'cause I'm not," Gabriel said to her now. "I can't even say I'm sorry for what I did there. I'm sure they have insurance on the place, and it's not like I burned the place down, or anything. I just got so mad. You didn't - you don't - deserve any of that crap, Liz. You're worth a thousand of that guy. No; a million. Don't you waste one second thinking about him. Promise me, Liz. Not one second. I - "

Liz grabbed Gabriel's face with both hands and kissed him firmly on the mouth. "I love you," she told him. "I wish I'd met you first."

"So do I," Gabriel said, and he put his arms around her waist. "So do I," he repeated, and they kissed again.

Kevin was talking to Riley now. "I was a little bit worried about a few of those questions," the young Asian Angel said. "It's a little tough, having your mom in the same room. Luckily, nothing too embarrassing came out. Although, I'm still trying to get the image of Frank wearing bikini underwear out of my head." As Riley laughed, Kevin said, "Like, for instance, I'm glad nobody asked about doing any drugs, 'cause I experimented once, but I didn't want my mom to find out. Did you ever do any drugs, Riley?"

"Yeah," Riley said without hesitation. "I took LSD once, in college. I just wanted to see what it would be like." Why was he telling Kevin this? "I'd been reading Ivanhoe for my English Lit class, and suddenly, I found myself running around campus all night with a sword I'd made by smashing my desk chair to bits. It just suddenly seemed really important that I have a sword. Anyway, I ran around campus, looking for dragons to slay, and maidens to rescue."

Kevin burst out laughing. "You're kidding!"

Riley's lips twitched. "I guess it's kind of funny, now. I had one of my bedsheets tied around my neck like a cape, and - "

"A cape?" Kevin exclaimed. "Aren't you getting your genres mixed up?"

"Shut up, Kevin," Riley said, smiling now. "You try affording a full suit of armour on a student's budget."

The two young men laughed, and then Riley's expression turned serious. "But, that was it. That was the only time. I didn't like the feeling of being that out of control. You know what I mean?"

Kevin nodded. "I know exactly what you mean."

Becky approached the Angels. "What are you guys talking about?"

Kevin shrugged. "Just stuff when we were humans." He looked at her, realizing something now: he was totally over her. He was totally, completely, one hundred percent over her. What a liberating feeling. "Bobby was telling us about your modelling career the other day," Becky's ex-boyfriend said to her. He said you're doing great. Congratulations."

Becky was a little taken aback, but Kevin seemed sincere, so she smiled tentatively. "Thanks, Kevin."

"But how did you land the cover of Junior Fashion?" Riley asked Becky. "You told me there was no way you were gonna get it. You said they were going with Oona, because she was thinner than you, and had more experience than you. What made them change their minds?"

Kevin looked at him, startled. Riley seemed to know an awful lot about Becky's career. He wondered if the two of them were seeing each other, maybe. Not that it was any of Kevin's business, he supposed.

"I did," Becky said promptly. "I changed their minds. They kept going on and on about Oona. How she was so beautiful, and so thin. How every girl wanted to look like her. The guy from the magazine actually pinched my waist, and said I should lose about twenty pounds! Can you imagine?"

"No," Riley said, astonished. "You're already skinny. Is that why you drank, when Carolyn said that thing about going on a diet?"

"Yeah," Becky admitted. "I tried to go on a diet when he said that. But I couldn't stick to it. I got so hungry. So after work one day, I went to a burger place, and when I sat down, I saw Oona at a table in the corner, scarfing down two double burgers! She had ketchup all over her hands, and special sauce all over her face. So I snuck a picture of her with my phone, and posted it online. The next day, they fired her, and hired me."

The young males looked at each other, astonished. "That was a pretty mean thing to do, Becky," Kevin admonished her.

Becky was stunned. It was, wasn't it? She couldn't believe she'd just told them that. She'd felt kind of guilty about it at the time, but she'd done it, anyway. In order to get Sam to notice her, she had to be on the cover of a magazine. Therefore, she had talked herself into it. Oona was gorgeous, and she could get other jobs. But Becky needed that one, and she'd been determined to get it. She'd never, ever intended to tell anybody about what she'd done, though. Why had she -

Wait. Wait a minute. Becky started to think. Sometimes the process took a while, but as she looked around the room, she started to realize that something was wrong. Yeah, she'd seen Gabriel and Liz sneak off, and Cas and Gail were being affectionate, of course. But Becky had seen a lot more people drinking the punch, and none of them were acting like they were in love with anyone. What the hell?

As Becky's wheels were turning, Frank was handing Rob a beer. "I hope I didn't scar you for life with that underwear thing," Rob's dad said, grinning.

Rob shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I'm not a little kid any more, Dad. I could probably tell you a couple of things that might freak you out, too."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" Frank said good-naturedly, taking a swig of his beer.

"Like the fact that I slept with a woman who was almost as old as Mom, when I was in Vancouver," Rob replied.

Frank swallowed, hard. "Holy moly. I didn't expect to hear that." He eyed his son. "I don't know whether to high-five you, or make sure you've got protection."

"I'm good, Dad," Rob said, taking a drink. "Actually, I don't even know why I told you that. Forget I said it."

"Okie-dokie," Frank agreed. He clinked bottles with his son. Sheesh. Sometimes, ignorance really was bliss. But he was kind of proud of Rob, too.

"Maybe let's not tell Mom, though," Rob added.

Frank nodded vigorously, glancing in Jody's direction. She was talking animatedly to Wilma and Richard. "Oh, yeah, no, we're never telling your mother," he agreed. "Hey, let's go graze some more snacks."

As her husband and son went off in search of more food, Jody was embroiled in a serious conversation with the producer and his wife.

"I think it's great, what you're doing at the womens' shelter," Jody was telling the couple. "As a former Sheriff, I'm aware that battered women can use all the help they can get."

Richard frowned. "Yes, and the law can only go so far."

"Unfortunately, that's true," Jody agreed.

"Have you ever had a case where the abused woman went through all the proper channels, yet her abuser still came after her?" Wilma asked Jody, as Richard put his arm around his wife's shoulders.

"Yes. It also happened to my doctor, who is also a personal friend of mine," Jody responded. "She jumped through all the hoops. Did all the right things. Reported him, documented everything he said and did, and went to court to get a restraining order against him. But then, he came to her house one night, and beat the crap out of her. Said no piece of paper was going to keep him away from the woman he loved. The woman he loved. Can you imagine? He told her he was going to come back the next night, and they were going to have a romantic dinner, just the two of them. And she'd better not call the cops, or he'd kill her, and then he would kill as many cops as he could. So the next night when he showed up at her house, there was only one cop there: me. I shot him, dead, and we buried his body in a field. Now, Nelly's practice is thriving, she can sleep at night, and she's happy. It's funny, though. We never told anyone about that night. I'm not sure why I told the two of you about it now."

Tears were glistening in Wilma's eyes. "I wish you'd been there for my niece," she said quietly. "Her abuser killed her. Richard and I were witnesses at his trial. It was the same thing, in her case. The law failed her."

"I'm very sorry for your loss," Jody said sincerely.

Wilma sniffled back the tears. "I'm sorry too, Jody. I didn't mean to unload on you like that. This is supposed to be a party."

Richard gave his wife a squeeze. "Actually, I was going to tell Cas and Gail that we have an early morning tomorrow," he said to Jody. "But it was very nice to see all of you, and we really did have a good time tonight."

As Jody stood there wondering what the hell had just happened, some of the Angels started to leave, too. But most of Cas and Gail's family and close friends remained, and Dean was helping himself to some pie now. Gail had put out a couple of different kinds, promising him a bigger selection at Christmastime.

"That was pretty funny, when Richard thought he was gonna get you with that Madonna song," Frank said, nudging his friend.

"I know, right?" Dean said, smirking. "I should have told him I'm a big Madonna fan, or something, just to see the look on his face. Said it was my guilty pleasure. If he asked you what your guilty pleasure music was, what would you have said?"

"Disco," Frank blurted out, and as Dean put down his pie plate and turned to look at his friend, Frank continued, "I like Donna Summer, and K.C. and the Sunshine Band."

Dean burst out laughing. "That's really good! Hey, Sammy! Listen to this!" he called out. Jody had come into the room just in time for Frank's confession, and Gail's brother gave his wife a look. Jody was smirking. Frank had been telling the absolute truth. He would put some disco music on at home sometimes, when he was doing a really boring chore, and then he would dance around, wiggling his butt. Jody would stand there watching him, shaking her head and smiling. What a nut. But she knew that meant that he was happy, and Jody was happy to see him that way.

But Frank's guilty pleasure was a closely guarded secret. Frank and the guys ragged on each other all the time, but Jody would never dream of telling Dean Winchester that her husband liked to listen to disco music. So, why on earth would Frank have done it?

Luckily, Dean obviously thought that Frank was joking. As soon as Gail's brother realized that, he breathed a sigh of relief. Then he started making fun of certain genres of music and types of artists with Dean as Jody averted her gaze, smiling.

Nicole was in the living room, talking with Chuck, Gail, and Cas. They had been talking about the filming of the Supernatural movie. Chuck had quite a few ideas written down in notebooks, and he was running a few of them by his friends now.

"It's funny, because I have some ideas running around in my head that aren't exactly...well, they're not based on reality," Chuck said affably.

"But, do they have to be?" Gail asked him, curious. "It is a fictional series, after all. What were your ideas?"

"I had a glimpse of an alternative universe. I guess you could call it that," Chuck said uneasily. "But it's a pretty bleak storyline. I'm not even sure how it would fit. Maybe I'll save it for one of my fan fictions, instead."

"One of your what?" Nicole asked him, amused.

"I publish fan fiction," Chuck confessed. "I've been doing that for a few years now. I didn't think I'd ever actually get a chance to write for the actual franchise, so I self-published, just to express myself creatively."

"Any Destiel?" Gail teased.

"Sure," Chuck said automatically, and then he stammered, "I mean - ummm...why did I say that?"

Cas's eyebrows rose to his hairline, and Gail and Nicole looked at each other. Then they burst out laughing as Chuck mumbled something about it getting late. He'd promised Hester he would take her home, and he and Laurel would see everybody in Heaven tomorrow.

Gail excused herself, saying she was going to start taking some of the dishes into the kitchen and then make some coffee. Cas moved to help her, and the two of them left the living room as Dean came in.

Nicole saw her boyfriend, and she burst out laughing again. "What's so funny?" Dean asked her.

"Nothing," Nicole said. Another couple of giggles escaped her, and then she put her arms around him. "I had a nice time tonight," she told him.

"Me, too," Dean replied. "Can you stay over tonight? Sammy's getting pretty hammered. I'll probably just have Cas dump him here, in one of their spare bedrooms. Then we'll have the bunker to ourselves for the night. Sammy's getting on my nerves, anyway."

"He is? Why? Because he's getting drunk?" Nicole asked her boyfriend curiously. "Isn't that, I don't know, a little hypocritical?"

"Yeah, maybe. But I've been looking after him my whole life," Dean complained. "I get a little sick of it, sometimes."

As the two of them were talking in the living room, Becky was saying goodnight to the party hosts in the kitchen.

"Are you all right to drive, Becky?" Cas asked her, a look of concern on his face.

"I'm fine, Cas," she assured him. "I only had the one drink, and then I ate some food. I'm OK."

But she wasn't OK; not really. Becky couldn't understand what the hell had gone wrong. Had she read the spell book incorrectly? Measured the ingredients wrong? All she knew was that she had failed. Damn it! She would have to think of something else.

Kevin, Linda and Paul were sitting in the living room talking, and the tension was thick between them. Both mother and son had something that they needed to confess to the other, and the hour was growing late.

Finally, Paul couldn't stand it anymore. He took Linda's hand, then looked at her son. "Kevin, your mom and I are dating," he stated. There.

Kevin's mouth opened in surprise. Like everyone else, he'd assumed that she and Henri were interested in each other. Kevin wasn't stupid; he was a Prophet, after all, and he knew his mother very well. He also wasn't oblivious to the gossip around Heaven. He had been waiting for her to tell him that she was seeing Henri, and he had been prepared to tell her that he was happy for them.

But...Paul? Kevin looked at her, and then at Paul, and then back again. For a minute there, he honestly didn't know what to say. Paul was younger than Linda, brash, and outspoken. Paul used to be one of Lucifer's henchmen, for want of a better word. Cas had killed Paul's father, Raphael, when he and some of the other Angels had been trying to bring about the Apocalypse. Crap. Why couldn't it have been Henri?

"What's the matter, Kevin?" Linda said to him now. "You look upset. Is there something you want to say to me?"

"No, it's just..." Kevin had no idea what to say. Anything that he could say, any objection that he could raise, would sound petty, wouldn't it? His mother was a grown woman. And it was a known fact that Paul had a bit of a chip on his shoulder when it came to the perception of racial prejudice. But, Kevin and Linda were Asian, and Paul wasn't the only one who had experienced that kind of prejudice.

The two of them were looking at Kevin now, waiting for him to say something. He opened his mouth to tell them what he thought, but what came out was, "I'm pretty sure I'm gay, Mom."

Bobby had accidentally overheard that last part, and he popped himself over to the dining room area now, so he wouldn't be intruding on such a private moment. Sam was there by himself, fixing himself another drink. "Dean says you're having a real good time, Son," Bobby said to Sam. "Maybe a little too good. Gail and Cas are making some coffee. How about if we have some?"

Sam's brow furrowed. "Since when do you care about one of us getting drunk, Bobby?" he asked their friend. "I'm not driving, and I'm pretty sure Dean and Nicole want to be alone at the bunker, anyway. They're kind of loud, sometimes."

"Where's Quinn?" Bobby asked him.

"What?" Sam said blankly.

"You heard me," Bobby said calmly. "Where's your girlfriend?"

"She's not...I'm not..." Sam looked around helplessly. "I don't know, Bobby. I probably shouldn't have brought her here. But, don't worry. Gail said I could sleep here tonight."

"Don't you mean, Cas and Gail said?" Bobby asked him, frowning. "Look, Boy, let me tell you something. That annulment of theirs don't mean a thing. You got that? It's just a blip on the screen. Get that out of your head right now."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bobby," Sam said uncomfortably.

"Bull shit," Bobby said bluntly.

"You don't know that," Sam said earnestly.

"Yes I do, Sam. I'm telling you. I do. I don't want to see you get hurt, Son," Bobby insisted.

"I'm gonna talk to her," Sam said stubbornly.

"You're gonna talk to her?" Bobby echoed. He was growing exasperated now. "Let me tell you something. You're not staying here tonight. You're gonna go home, you're gonna sober up, and then you're gonna call Quinn tomorrow and apologize to her. And then, you're gonna forget about this annulment business. Don't chase after something you're never going to have, Sam. You'll only end up with a broken heart. Believe me, I know."

"What do YOU know about it?" Sam asked him angrily.

"More than you might think," Bobby said, frowning. "I know that alcohol and infatuation are a bad combination. Leave it alone, Boy."

Quinn had been standing at the entrance to the dining room, and she rushed into the room now. "Bobby, do you think that you can take me home?" she said in a clipped tone.

Bobby sighed. "I'll be happy to, dear." He looked at Sam again. "Do what I told you."

Quinn looked at Sam. "Lose my number. You and I are done," she said to him.

"I'm sorry, Quinn," Sam said. "Can we talk tomorrow?"

"I don't talk to liars," she fired back.

"Liars?" Sam said, swaying on his feet slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Hey, what's all the yelling?" Dean said. He and Nicole walked in from the living room. A moment later, so did Cas and Gail. They had been seeing the other guests off. Cas had offered a guest room to Frank and Jody and another to Rob and Eric, but the parents had wanted to go home and check on Angela, so Cas had popped them all home, and then he had come back to help Gail with the cleanup. Everyone was gone now, except for the small group that were here in the dining room.

Quinn stalked up to Sam. "Tell me the truth, once and for all," she said to him through gritted teeth. "Are you in love with Gail?"

"Yes," Sam answered immediately. "Yes, I am."

Now, why had he said that? But it had felt so good to let it out. Finally. Yes. One simple, three-letter word had set him free. But as Sam let out a breath, feeling the tension in his chest ease, Quinn smacked him soundly across the face. "Let's go, Bobby," she said, walking back over to their Angel friend. Bobby stared at Sam for a moment, shaking his head. Then he put his hand lightly on Quinn's arm, and the two of them disappeared.

"Aww, geez," Dean said softly. He looked at Gail, who was standing motionless, her lips pursed. Then he looked at Cas. He was staring at Sam, an inscrutable look on his face.

"Cas..." Sam said, but he had no idea how to finish that sentence. As cathartic as it had been for an instant, now Sam felt nauseous. Cas was just staring at him, not displaying any emotion.

"Of course you love Gail," Dean said heartily. "We all love Gail."

Sam put his hand up. "Save it, Dean. Thanks for trying, but...no. That's not what I meant, and they know it." He chuffed out a self-conscious laugh. "I guess everybody knows it. I'm sorry, Cas."

"Why are you looking at Cas?" Gail asked Sam. "Why are you talking to HIM? Shouldn't you be talking to ME?"

"No, he shouldn't," Cas said, approaching Sam. He looked closely at the younger Winchester's face. "He should be talking to me. What is your goal here, Sam? What do you hope to accomplish?"

"Why are you getting an annulment?" Sam asked Gail's husband.

"Because Patricia nullified our marriage," Cas said evenly. "Because the ancient rules say we must, before we can remarry."

"Have you ASKED Gail if she wants to remarry you?" Sam asked his friend. "Or, have you just been assuming that she will?"

"Awww, GEEZ," Dean said again. "Come on, Sammy, let's go home. You're drunk."

But Cas held his hand up. "Wait a minute, Dean. Of course I - " He stopped. HAD he just assumed that Gail wanted to remarry him? He faltered now.

"I did a little research," Sam said. "I found out about the fifth step of the annulment process, and I'll bet you every penny I've got that you haven't told Gail what it is, have you?"

"We were going to wait until after Christmas to discuss it," Cas said uncomfortably.

"OK, well, let's talk about it now," Sam said boldly. "Are you gonna tell her about it, or should I?"

Cas moved even closer to Sam, invading his personal space. "You come into our home, and say you're my friend. Then you confess to being in love with my wife, and now you talk about the annulment of our marriage, as if it's any of your business."

"I'm gonna be one of the seven guys, aren't I?" Sam retorted. "That makes it my business."

"Will somebody please just tell me what the hell you're talking about?" Gail interjected. "This is my life, and my marriage, that you're discussing, isn't it? So, start talking!"

Cas sighed. He turned around to face her. "Step five of the annulment process. The final step. You must wed another man, and live with him for six months. Then, at the end of that six-month period, you are free to do whatever you choose. You have to designate seven suitors. We gather the seven men, and they all pick a sacred stone. Six of the stones are black, and one is white. The man who picks the white stone will be the one you must marry."

Gail stared at him, open-mouthed. This was beyond belief. "I'd ask you if you were kidding, but I know better by now," she said, shaking her head.

"I only wish I were," Cas lamented.

"What if I say forget it? I'm not going to do it!" Gail said, raising her voice.

"Then you and I can never be together again," Cas said miserably.

"Oh, come on!" Gail shouted. "Do you know how ridiculous this is? I've never heard such b.s. in all my life!" There was silence, and then she said, ""So you're telling me that I have to pick seven of our single friends, and whoever gets the luck of the draw has to marry me for six months?!"

"Or, gets to," Sam chipped in, grinning drunkenly.

Gail glared at him. "You're not helping." Then she glared at Dean. "Do you have anything to say about this? Any smartass comments? Any little jokes, maybe? Come on, Dean. My brother's not here. Have at it!"

"I've got nothing to say. Not a damn thing," he said quickly. He took Nicole's hand. "Cas, buddy, take us all back to the bunker, wouldja?"

"I think that's a very good idea," Gail said, tight-lipped.

Immediately, the four of them disappeared, and Gail stood there in shock. She walked back into the living room on autopilot, sinking down onto the couch.

She would have to marry someone else, for six months. Would she have to live with him? Would they be expected to...? No. No way. Cas was the only man she had ever been with. The only man she ever wanted to be with. What the hell was the matter with these people? Why should she have to marry someone else? What kind of sense did that even make? If it was intended to show her that she had choices, well, duh. Of course she had choices. She could choose to put on different clothes each day. She could choose to help out at the Seniors' Centre. She could choose to visit Frank, or talk to Liz, or go to the bunker. But she couldn't choose whether or not to love Cas. That choice had been made for her a long time ago. When he had come to dinner at her and Arthur's table. When he had walked into that Scottish pub. And when he had wearily descended the bunker's steps into the library area, there to help her find her brother. How could she possibly choose to marry another man? Maybe she should just cut off an appendage, instead. Maybe she should wear sackcloth and ashes for a few decades. Would that be good enough to satisfy their stupid rules? What the hell kind of backwards, medieval, Draconian -

Cas popped into the living room. He stood there, looking at her. "Dean and Nicole say goodnight." His lips twitched as he looked at her, hopeful of a smile. "And you'll be glad to know that I didn't punch Sam in the face."

But she just stared at him. She wasn't in the mood to be charmed right now. "Why didn't you tell me, Cas?"

He approached the couch and sat down gingerly beside her. "Because I was afraid to," he answered honestly. "Because I was insecure."

Gail thought back now, remembering the recent discussions that she and Cas had had. Now, a lot of things made sense. He had made some comments about her possibly deciding she wouldn't want to be married to him anymore. But she'd had no idea he could be referring to anything like this. Absolutely none.

"I don't want to marry anybody else, Cas," she told him. "Why would I want to marry anyone else?"

"I'm glad you don't want to," he replied, "but, you HAVE to. If we don't finish the annulment process, we can't remarry. If that's what you want. I'm sorry if I just assumed it. I was going to propose to you again, at the end of the six-month period. I promise you, Gail, that I never took anything for granted. I know you probably don't want to hear that, but I just wanted to assure you that I'm aware that you have choices. You always have. I would never want to presume that I'm the only choice that you have. I know I'm the only man you've ever been with, but who am I to say that you wouldn't be happier with someone else?"

Gail looked at him, incredulous. "First of all, I just want to say how stupid our ancient laws are," she began. "Second, I would love it if you would propose again. What woman in her right mind wouldn't love that? And I know you don't take me for granted, Cas. But, let me tell you something: you ARE the only choice I have. You're the one I love. You're the only one I'll ever love, and the only man I ever want to be with. How could I possibly be happier with someone else, when I'm already happier than I thought I could ever be, with you?"

Cas scooped her hands up in his. "I was hoping that's what you were going to say," he told her. "And, don't worry: when you marry this other man, although you will have to live in the same domicile throughout, you are not required to consummate the marriage."

Gail made a face. "Imagine my relief. Good, 'cause that was going to be a deal breaker. Never have I ever...loved anyone as utterly and completely as I love my husband, Castiel."

Cas smiled. "And, never have I ever...given my entire heart, soul, and existence over to anyone as I have to my wife, Gail," he said softly. "And even when you are another man's wife, I will wait until that last step is accomplished, and then I will dedicate myself to making you happy, for the rest of eternity. If you will have me."

Gail smiled. "How about making me happy right now?"

Cas winked her to the bedroom immediately. He started to undress her with trembling hands. "I need to make sure that you know that I will never take this for granted, either," Cas told her quietly.

"I know that, sweetie," Gail said, putting her arms around his neck. "I love you."

Cas kissed her on the mouth. "I love you so much, my darling." He picked her up and laid her gently on the bed.

"I need you, every second of every minute of every day of my life," Gail told him, touching his face.

"I will do anything for you," Cas said, kissing her neck. "I will give you everything."

"All I want is you," she said, stroking his hair. "That's all I've ever wanted."

They slowly took off each other's clothes, kissing and caressing each other the entire time. Cas made love to her at a leisurely pace, and at the point where she usually asked him to hurry, Gail asked him to slow down this time. She wanted to savour the experience. Right after Christmas, they were going to deliberately dissolve their marriage and live apart for half a year. An eternity. And, to put the curdled icing on the crappy cake, she would have to spend those six months married to a guy she didn't love, for reasons that were still unclear to her. But at least he would be a friend.

When Cas could no longer hold back, he asked her if he could go faster, and then they were crying out each other's names. Then they rested, and then they switched positions and made love again, and then again.

They were cuddling, nice and snug and warm under the covers, when Cas said, "I'll have to take Nicole back to the movie set in the morning. You can stay here if you wish, or go back to Heaven."

"Why wouldn't I come to the bunker with - " she started to say. Ohhh. "Look, Cas. Sam is one of our best friends. He had too much to drink tonight, that's all. I don't mind him saying he loves me, and neither should you. We love him too, and we love Dean."

Cas was troubled. "Yes, but you and I both know that Sam didn't mean it that way."

She gave him a half-shrug. "Be that as it may, it doesn't matter, Cas. You know that nothing will ever come of it. But I'm going to go with you, because I need to talk to him. Me, not you. I'm not going to let things get weird. He and Dean mean too much to us." Then she smiled. "But we're going to have to come back here, afterwards. I haven't finished cleaning up yet, but I don't have the energy to do it right now. And I'm thirsty, too."

Cas's lips twitched. "You should have said something." He waved his hand. "There. The house is clean. Oh, and..." He waved his hand again, and he was holding a cup of the fruit punch. "This is the last of it," he told her. "It must have been very good."

"Do you want to try it?" Gail asked him, moving her pillows behind her head so that she could sit up.

"No, you go ahead," Cas said, shaking his head. "There's only a little bit left. I promise you that I will sample some, if you make it again at Christmastime." He was about to hand her the cup when his nostrils flared. He was getting a whiff of something from the cup. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. For an instant, he had a vision of Rudy, Crowley's Demon lieutenant, and the abandoned building they had met at. But, why on earth would he be thinking about that now?

Cas gave Gail the cup and she drank the punch. Then she put the cup on the nightstand and turned back to her husband. "Thank you, sweetie. You always take such good care of me."

"You will want for nothing," he promised her. "I will always love you, and I will always take care of you."

She was caressing his body now, and Cas pulled her to him for a kiss. She opened her mouth, and their tongues met. Cas made a sound in his throat, and he rolled her over on her back. He moved his way down her body with his tongue, spending time in the spots he knew she particularly liked. She opened her legs to him and he lifted her by her hips, touching his tongue to her delicately. She looked down at him, and when she did, he sped up, and she wound her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. Then, when she had calmed down a bit, he raised himself up and entered her, kissing her on the mouth.

By the time they had made love one more time, the last vestiges of the potion were working on Gail. So, while Cas was cuddling her, speaking words of love to her, Gail's tongue was loosening.

"I just want to take care of you, and protect you," Cas murmured. "You've been through so much. The compound with your father, and even before that, when you went to Hell. I wish you would tell me what happened there."

"Then ask me," Gail said simply. Oh, Crap. Why had she said that? She had spent all this time desperately trying NOT to tell him about it.

"All right, I will," Cas said softly. "What happened to you in Hell?"


	7. Too Much To Ask

Chapter 7 - Too Much To Ask

Cas's horror mounted as Gail told him the full story of her ordeal in Hell, and at the end of her tale, he crushed her to him.

"Oh, my poor darling," he said, his voice shaking with emotion. "What you went through...why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you would be furious," she answered honestly. She took a deep breath. Although her initial admission had been due to the truth potion's effects, now that it was out, she actually felt better. "And, because I was concerned about the mark he put on me. I didn't want to say anything about it until I found out what it could do."

"You should have told me immediately," Cas said, his jaw clenching.

Yes, she probably should have, Gail acknowledged to herself. But she gave him a look now. "Just like you told me about Step 5 of the annulment?" she said dryly.

Cas sighed. "Fair enough." He kissed her on the forehead. "I will get dressed and go up to Heaven. I'll form a garrison out of the Angels who volunteer to come. And then, we will go to Hell and I will kill Crowley myself, while the cadets kill anyone else who tries to stand in our way."

"No, Cas, you can't!" Gail exclaimed, panicked. She clutched at him, and he caught her wrists with his hands.

"Yes I can, and I'm going to," Cas said quietly. "I should have done it a long time ago. Do not try to dissuade me. It won't work this time."

"But, Cas...he said that the mark was going to do something to me if anyone tried to kill him!" Gail said to her husband.

Cas regarded her. "Did he? And do you believe him?"

She squirmed. "I don't know, Cas. And before you ask, he didn't give me any further details. He just said it was his insurance. And he said that when he calls on me for his favour, I'd better do it, or the mark will poison me."

Cas frowned. Crowley could well be telling the truth. And if he were, it was a real shame. Cas had never, in his entire existence, wanted to kill anyone so badly as he wanted to kill the King of Hell right now. How dare Crowley subject Gail to those things? How DARE he?

"Let me see the mark, please," he said, as calmly as he could manage.

Gail turned her back to him, and she indicated the spot under her hairline where Crowley had put it. Cas parted her hair and peered at the mark. He'd never seen anything like it before. It wasn't a sigil, or a rune. It wasn't any kind of a language, at least not one that he was familiar with. It was...wait. Wait a moment. On second thought, he HAD seen a symbol like this before.

"The Hell Tablet," he muttered, and Gail turned back around, startled. "What?" she asked him.

Now it was Cas's turn to turn his back on her, as he searched for his cell phone. He hadn't worn his jacket to the party, so it should be in the front pocket of his pants, which were currently on the floor. Yes, there it was. "I think I've seen that symbol, on the Hell Tablet," Cas told her.

"But the Hell Tablet was destroyed in Madagascar," she protested.

Cas turned his phone on. "That's quite right," he replied. "But we took pictures of all of the Tablets, remember?"

She gasped. They had! That was right, too. Cas found the folder with all the photographs, but there was only one problem: the etchings on it were too difficult to make out on a small cell phone screen.

"We'll have to go to the bunker in the morning," Cas remarked, turning off his phone.

"Well, we were going there, anyway," Gail said, shrugging. "Now we just have one more reason."

Cas got back under the covers and cuddled her again. "How did you do all that, my love?" he asked her quietly.

"I didn't, Cas; WE did," she told him. "I saw you everywhere. I heard your voice. If it wasn't for you, I would never have made it out. Let those stupid rules force me to marry somebody else. But they can't force me to love anybody else."

Cas smiled. What a wonderful thing to say. "I will count every minute of the six months, and at the end, I will get down on my knees and entreat you to marry me again," he said to her.

"It's a date," Gail said happily. Compared to the last couple of months and what she'd had to endure at Crowley's and then at Vincent's hands, marriage to one of their friends would be a slam-dunk. "But in the meantime, let's put some more loving in the bank account," she said, snuggling up to him. "What do you say?"

"I say yes," Cas responded, giving her a squeeze. "I will always say yes." He kissed her on the mouth, and a few minutes later, they were making love again.

Sam was sitting at the library table when Cas and Gail popped over in the morning. He looked unkempt and miserable, and he had a cup of coffee in front of him, but he was just staring at it. He looked up slowly.

"I'm sorry, you guys," Sam said quietly. "I was hoping to see you both this morning, so I could apologize." He put his head in his hands, smoothing his hair off his face. "If it's any consolation, I feel like absolute crap. This might be the worst hangover I've ever had."

"Wow. With you guys, that's really saying something," Gail remarked lightly. "Where are Dean and Nicole?"

"In the kitchen," Sam replied. "I came out here to get some peace and quiet. They're being pretty loud in there."

Gail gave Cas a look, and he said, "I'll go in and say good morning, then." He walked down the hallway.

Gail sat down in the chair next to Sam's. "What do you say you and I have a little chat?" she said softly.

Sam groaned. "I'm so embarrassed. I acted like a total dick, Gail. I already called Quinn and apologized to her, but we're pretty much over."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Gail said, because that was what you were supposed to say. But she wasn't; not really. She'd never thought that Quinn was right for Sam. Or, to be more honest, she'd never felt that Quinn was good enough for Sam.

"I'm not sure where we go from here," Sam said uncomfortably.

Gail put her hand on his arm. "We don't go anywhere, Sam. We stay right here." She sighed. "I don't want things to be weird between us. We've known each other way too long for that. So, I'm going to say this to you just once, and then we're never going to talk about it again. I love you a lot, Sam, but..."

"It's OK. I know," he said in a subdued voice. "I know." He tried to grin, but that just made his head hurt more. And his heart, too. "That's just what every guy wants to hear: 'I love you, BUT'."

Gail's lips twitched briefly. "Well, I did say 'a lot'." She gave his arm a brief, gentle squeeze. "But seriously, I want to tell you something: if there hadn't been a Cas, there might very well have been a Sam and Gail. But there IS a Cas, and he's the love of my life. I don't want to hurt you, Sam, but you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know," Sam said, nodding. But that made his head hurt too, so he stopped. He gave her a wry smile instead. "Remember the scene in Love, Actually where Mark goes to see Juliet with those phrases written on cardboard?"

"Of course I do," Gail responded. "I love that movie."

"So do I," Sam told her. "I watch it every year, around Christmastime. I have to watch it in my room, of course, but - "

Gail rolled her eyes. "Of course. Sir Dean, and his rules. 'No chick flicks'."

"Right," Sam agreed. "Anyway, let's just pretend I'm Mark and you're Juliet and I've just done that with you. So now, I'll say: enough. It's enough."

Gail smiled warmly at him. "OK, the first thing I thought of when you said that is that I love that you're not afraid to tell me you like that movie. Never compromise yourself, Sam. If Dean or Frank ever make fun of you for it, I can tell you some stuff about Frank that you can use for ammunition."

"What about Dean?" Sam asked, playing along.

"I'll just smack him," Gail said cheerfully. "We all know there's nothing he can do about it if I do." She leaned closer to Sam. "Besides, it's an open secret that he's afraid of me."

They both laughed, and even though doing that caused another piercing pain in Sam's head, it had felt good, anyway.

"There's just one more thing about that scene," Gail continued. She gave Sam a firm kiss on the cheek. "There. Now we've re-enacted it. I'll tell you what. We'll put that movie on at our house this Christmas, you and I and Cas can share a box of tissues, and Dean and Frank can suck it."

Then they laughed again, just as Dean and Cas came out into the library area. "You guys OK?" Dean asked them, and Sam and Gail both nodded.

"I'm sorry, Cas," Sam said sheepishly. "I hope you're not - "

"There's no need to apologize," Cas told his friend. "I know that you don't mean any harm, Sam. I'm actually grateful, in a way. The more of you that love Gail, the better, especially right now. We came here for your help, in fact."

"Where's Nicole?" Gail asked him.

"I took her back to the movie set," Cas told her. "Apparently, there's a big push on right now to film the remaining scenes so they'll be done by Christmas."

He went on to explain to the brothers about the mark that Crowley had put on Gail. Understandably, they were angry, both at the King of Hell for putting it there, and at Gail for not having told them about it before now.

She gave them a half-shrug. "Congratulate me, guys. I guess I'm a Winchester now. Isn't that the M.O. around here?"

Sam was already opening his laptop, and this time when he grinned at what Gail had said, it hurt a lot less. It had been cathartic to get his feelings out in the open, and he was glad that neither Cas nor Gail seemed to be holding it against him.

But now, they had a problem to focus on. Yet another one. Gail was sitting looking at the laptop screen as Sam went into his saved files. Cas was leaning over Sam's shoulder on his other side, peering at the computer. Suddenly, Gail felt her hair being lifted at the back of her head, and she jumped.

"Relax, I just wanna get a look," Dean said. "Sam's not the only one who knows stuff about stuff, you know."

She relaxed, letting him part her hair to have a look. "Sorry, Dean. You're right," she said to him. But then, she couldn't resist: "I'd like a short bob, and maybe trim my bangs too, while you're at it."

Dean smirked as he peered at the symbol. Gail and Frank, Frank and Gail. The quip twins. He was glad that things seemed to be OK between Sammy and Cas and Gail after that debacle last night, though. Dean and Nicole had poured his brother into bed the night before, and this morning, Sam had had the puppydog eyes when he had shuffled into the kitchen for coffee. Hopefully, they could put the incident behind them now, and things could get back to normal. Well, whatever passed for normal in their world, anyway. He was looking at some kind of weird, mystical Rorschach ink blot on his pseudo-sister's head that had been put there by the King of Hell. They'd all passed normal in the rear-view mirror a long, long time ago.

"Here's the Hell Tablet," Sam announced, magnifying the picture on his computer screen. Cas and Dean peered at the computer as Sam turned to Gail. "Do you mind?" he said to her, gesturing.

She sighed. "Sure, Sam." She moved to the side, lifting up her hair so he could have a look at the symbol. Boy, was she glad she hadn't asked Crowley to hide it in a more intimate spot.

"That's it, right there," Dean said, tapping his finger on the computer screen. "That squiggly thing, next to those other squiggly things."

"Well, that's extremely helpful," Gail said dryly. She shifted back around in her chair to look.

Cas was looking intently at the markings. "This will require some study," he remarked. "Can you print out a copy for me, Sam?"

"Yeah, sure, Cas," Sam said, looking thoughtful. He hit the Print button. "I'll study it, too. And maybe you want to give Kevin and Chuck a copy." He gave them a half-smile. "Too bad Metatron's not still around. He could probably translate that whole thing in about five minutes."

"Yeah," Gail agreed. "The only other person I can think of who could translate it that easily would be Crowley." The man all looked at her. "Well, it's true," she added, shrugging.

"Wait a minute," Cas said slowly. "Maybe she's got something, there."

"What?!" both Winchesters exclaimed.

Cas started to smile.

Eric threw the few possessions he had in the knapsack that he'd bought as Rob just stood there, feeling frustrated.

"But, we were just getting to know each other," Rob said to his brother.

"I know, but I have my own place and my own life, in Jacksonville," Eric said. "I like you guys, but I'm not one of the Waltons. You can come with me, if you want. See how the other half lives, so to speak."

"To do what? Run drugs, and other, worse stuff? I know what you do, Eric," Rob said. "I'm a psychic, remember?" He leaned against the dresser in his room. "And that's why I know you were really miserable there. Plus, you're messing with some pretty bad guys."

His brother laughed scornfully. "Not like we would know anything about bad guys, eh, Rob?"

Rob sighed. "Are you sure I can't convince you to change your mind?"

"Nahhh," Eric said. He shouldered his knapsack and held out his hand for his brother to shake. "Say goodbye to everybody for me. I don't feel like listening to another lecture from God. But make sure you give Auntie Gail a hug from me. Her, I like."

Rob frowned, but Eric was an adult, and he could do what he wanted. "Do me a favour? Call me if you need anything, OK?" Then he smiled at his brother. "You won't even need a phone."

"OK, Rob. It's a deal." Eric shook his hand, and then he winked himself out of the house.

Gail was standing at the crossroads, waiting for Crowley. She'd called him twice now on their direct Originals frequency, but he hadn't shown up yet. She wondered if he was leery of appearing, just in case Cas was standing by with his smiting hand at the ready. So she sent out one more call, advising him that she was alone.

She was just about to give up and leave when he appeared.

As it was, the King looked around warily. "Where's the Lord God?" he asked snarkily.

"I told you, I came alone," she insisted. "I thought that would be best."

Crowley nodded. "Quite right. So, what is it that you want?"

"I found something interesting the other day," she told him. "I was looking through Sam's laptop, and I happened to come across some pictures."

"You'd better not tell Castiel about that," Crowley joked. "I don't think the Almighty would approve of his wife looking at pornography."

Gail made a face. "You think you're really funny, don't you? I know I almost died laughing when I was in your Kingdom, recently."

"Always with the witty rejoinders," Crowley remarked. He was staring at her with a strange expression on his face. Like me, he thought.

"Anyway, those pictures were of the Tablets we used to rebuild Lucifer's cage. Remember those?" she said casually. "I found something really interesting on the Hell Tablet. Wanna know what it was?"

Crowley's eyebrows raised. "You took pictures of those Tablets?"

"You're damn right we did," Gail retorted. "We're not only Holy, we're smart, too."

"All right, sweetheart. I'll bite. What was so interesting?"

She smiled grimly. "Now, now. You of all people should know that's not how these things work."

Crowley was bemused. "Right you are. What is it you want this time, then? Has your Sainted husband stubbed a toe? Or has one of the God Squad gotten themselves into a pickle?"

Gail pointed to the back of her head. "I want this off."

He barked out a laugh. "You do, do you? How about if I just conjure up a unicorn for you while I'm an it, with rainbows coming out its arse? How would that be?" He moved closer to her, staring at her face with that curious expression. It was starting to freak her out.

She was also starting to get mad. "Why do you need me to be beholden to you?" she asked him. "Anything you need, you can take care of, yourself. So what's the point?"

"You let me worry about that," Crowley said coolly. "In the meantime, if you're simply here on a fishing expedition, you're wasting my time."

"Fine," she said, shrugging. "Then don't blame me when your Kingdom crumbles."

Crowley continued to stare at her, and then suddenly, he snapped his fingers and the mark burned red-hot. "I'm calling in my favour," he told her.

Gail winced. "Owww!" She touched the back of her head, where the mark was. "That hurts!"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. Next time, I'll make sure to have your Demon curse licked on by kittens," Crowley said sarcastically. "The pain will fade in a few minutes, but the clock is now ticking. For every hour that you fail to carry out the favour, poison will start to incrementally seep into your bloodstream."

Her lips pursed tightly together. "Well then, maybe I'll just jump into another vessel," she said sassily.

Crowley smiled, and his smile was nasty. "That's not the way that Demon curses work, and if you'd really been able to read the Hell Tablet, you would know that. Any markings you have on your current vessel would just simply appear on your new vessel. Nice try, though. Bonus points for thinking like a Demon."

Gail let out a frustrated breath. "Fine. What's your stupid favour?"

"I know that you and Castiel know about the codices," the King said. "I want you to get them for me."

Cas waved his hand, making himself visible. "Maybe YOU are the one who should receive that unicorn," he said acidly. "Because that is never going to happen."

"And, the other shoe drops," Crowley said sardonically. He looked at Gail. "You're a terrible liar, sweetheart. That's something you might want to work on, if you hope to make Demon deals." Then he looked at Cas again. "How are you, Castiel? You look awfully fit for a dead man."

Cas was livid. "Which is the precise state you would be in right now, if you hadn't put that mark on my wife."

"Well then, it's lucky I did, isn't it?" Crowley replied. He was smirking inwardly. It was just as he'd hoped. He had fooled Gail into thinking that his little tattoo would kill her if Castiel or anyone else tried to kill Crowley. Excellent. "So, here's what's going to happen," the King continued. "You, Gail, are going to retrieve those codices and bring them to me. And you, Castiel, are going to sit back and allow that to happen. If you do not, your loving wife will die a slow, painful death."

"If you think I'm going to let her face Raguel - " Cas fumed, but Crowley interrupted him. "Don't get your feathers in a flap," the King said. "He doesn't have them. My whore of a mother does. But you'll have to be careful, sweetheart. I would suggest a more subtle approach than just storming in there and demanding them. If she destroys them before you get your hands on them, the favour will remain unfulfilled, and then, you will die."

"Oh? And what would you suggest?" Gail asked him tartly. "That I invite her over for a wee cup of tea? We're not exactly best friends, if you'll recall. Although now, I'm thinking that we might be able to bond over our hatred of you."

Crowley smiled enigmatically, and then his eyes danced with evil glee. "Whatever works, sweetheart. But I think you might be able to bond over more than that. Seeing as I'm a major disappointment to her as a son, she might respond more favourably to her daughter."

Josiah was meandering around on the riverbank, looking for interesting things to take home. As many boys will, he liked to go exploring, and he liked to pick up various items he discovered, when he did. It was amazing how many cool things washed up on shore from the river.

He liked it here in Memphis. The people talked a little funny, and the weather was hotter, but it was still better than Philadelphia. Shortly after Rosalie had been held hostage at gunpoint by her abusive boyfriend, his Mom had been robbed at the convenience store where she had been working graveyard shift, just to try to make ends meet. She'd had Joe by then, and she had been trying to pay her hospital bill down a little at a time, and feed and clothe the baby. She had also dipped into her savings and made as generous a donation as she could to the fund that had been set up for that young officer's wife and son. After all, if it hadn't been for Ethan, Rosalie would have been dead, and so would her baby.

But after the robbery, that had been it for her. Rosalie was done with Philly after that. So she'd packed up their meagre belongings and taken little Josiah down South. They had eventually settled in Memphis, on the outskirts of the city. Rosalie rented a small trailer home there, and she walked a mile down the dusty road to the bus stop in the morning to get to her job in the city. Joe got picked up by the schoolbus right outside the trailer park about 20 minutes after she left, and the bus delivered him back home earlier than his mom got there. But Joe was a mature, responsible child, and this wasn't the big city. All of the people in the trailer park knew each other, and they all looked out for one another. So he would come home from school, waving to the neighbours, and fix himself a snack. Then, if the weather was nice, he would go over to the riverbank and explore for an hour or so, until it was time to go home.

Little Josiah was both precocious and introverted, at the same time. He couldn't seem to relate to any of the kids in his class, or really, to any of the other kids at the school. Joe was an old soul, who didn't quite fit in with others his age. There was a reason for that, although neither he nor his mother knew what that was, of course. Josiah had been saved by God's Hand, because he was one of the Chosen Ones. Soon, he would be tasked with his divine mission, which was to kill the anti-Christ, with a powerful and Holy weapon.

Something caught Joe's eye, and he carefully picked his way down the embankment to get a closer look. His mouth dropped open. The sun glistened on the metal of a large knife that was laying on the rocks at the water's edge.

"Cool," Joe remarked. He knelt down to pick it up, and as his fingers touched the blade, the markings on it glowed a bright purple, and then yellow, and then the glow faded. Wow. Freaky. He picked the knife up carefully and examined it. It was large and sharp and surprisingly shiny, considering the fact that it must have washed up on the rocks from the muddy Mississippi River.

As Josiah peered at the markings on the hilt of the blade, he suddenly realized that he could read every word of the strange, Sanskrit-like etchings. He didn't read it all, of course; not out here. But he read enough to know that this was a Holy weapon he held in his hand, and that finding it had been his purpose for having been born unto the Earth.

Josiah folded Gabriel's Angel blade and put it in his pocket, then started off for home.

If ever a being like Crowley could achieve an emotion such as genuine happiness, that was how he was feeling now, as he looked at the astonished expressions on their faces. For one brief, shining moment, he had managed to unhinge the Angels so effectively that neither of them seemed capable of forming a coherent sentence.

The King of Hell savoured the silence, but of course, it was destined not to last. Gail peered closely at Crowley's face. "Ummmm...what?" she said.

"Not your usual rapier-like retort, sweetheart," Crowley remarked, "but I suppose it's understandable, under the circumstances. Do give our mother my worst regards when you see her, will you? But make sure you tuck those codices safely away before you kill her. I don't want any bloodstains on them."

"Why are you telling us such a lie? What could you possibly have to gain from it?" Cas asked Crowley, bewildered.

"Exactly," his brother said. "I would have nothing to gain from telling you such an outrageous lie. Therefore, I must be telling you the truth."

"Where would you even get a notion like that?" Cas asked angrily.

"Raguel," Crowley said simply. "I believe you're familiar with a little publication known as The Book of Life?"

"Yes, of course," Cas said impatiently, "but what has that got to do with this?"

"Cause and effect," Crowley replied. "Pebbles in a stream. Or, some sort of rubbish like that. The simple, unvarnished truth is that that whole thing started because Rowena wished me not to be. That is why Abbadon ruled Hell, you were under the heel of her stiletto, and you had never made the Winchesters' acquaintance."

"That doesn't prove anything about what you're saying now," Gail pointed out. "What does all of that have to do with me?" But then, she froze. Death had told her that her mother had wished her not to be, using that exact phraseology, and Abigail denied that she had done that, when Gail had confronted her with it. But still, what Crowley was saying was so absurd, so ridiculous, so...

"I can see that you're in deep denial about the whole thing," Crowley said to her now, and his tone sounded almost chipper. "But I wouldn't take too long to reach the acceptance stage, if I were you. The poison from the curse is already seeping into your bloodstream."

"So that's the story you're going with?" Gail said tartly. "Then why don't I feel anything?"

"Oh, you will, sweetheart. You will," Crowley assured her. "Give our dear mother a peek at the mark. She'll tell you." He sighed. "Look, if it'll speed things up, I could just - " He stepped towards Gail with his hand raised, and Cas said quietly, "You touch her, and I'll kill you."

Crowley paused. "All right, fine." He sighed again. "I'll show YOU, then." He moved in Cas's direction, stretching to touch Cas's forehead. "This'll just take a second."

"Cas..." Gail said uneasily, but her husband waved her off. "Do not worry," he said calmly. "I'm God. He can't modify my memory while I hold the powers of the Office."

Crowley touched Cas, and an instant later, it was all revealed. The woman giving birth to twins on her cot in that modest little cottage, and the man stepping forward from the shadows to take the little girl.

"Vincent?" Cas said in a hushed voice, startling Gail.

Crowley removed his hand. "Who's Vincent?" he asked Cas, puzzled.

Cas looked at him, and then at Gail, struggling for the words. To say that Cas was shocked would be a major understatement at this point. A large part of him had honestly thought that Crowley had been playing some kind of a game with them, although its purpose had been unclear. But in this instance, the King of Hell had actually been telling them the truth.

"Rowena is your mother, and Vincent was your father. Both of you," Cas said to Gail in a subdued tone. "You and Crowley are brother and sister."

Vincent hadn't technically been lying to Gail about the meeting, only about the fact that it had already been arranged. But now that his compound and several dozen of his kids had been destroyed, he'd come back to his home base here in the Caribbean to do the summoning spell that should bring the others to him.

Ammit was the first to arrive. She appeared to him in the form of a buxom beach bunny for the purposes of the meeting. Ever since she'd been driven from the Lake, the Demon Goddess had realized that she'd better concentrate all her energies on finding the Books. Now that her power source had been taken away from her, those Books were her only hope if she wanted to usurp Death's position.

But she'd known she had rivals when it came to the search for the Books, so Ammit had attempted to find out as much about them as she could. Vincent was an enigmatic creature to say the least, but after doing some digging around, Ammit had been able to find out that he considered himself to be quite a ladies' man. So she had entered the body of a shapely blonde beach volleyball player for their conversation.

Vincent appreciated the view. When she walked into the cabana he'd set up as a receiving room, Ammit had gotten his attention immediately. She was wearing a string bikini and a flimsy cover-up that only served to call attention to her vessel's assets rather than to hide them.

"Thank you for coming, my dear," he said, giving her his most charming smile.

"You can call me Timma," she told him. "That's the name I use here on Earth."

"Very well. Have a seat, Timma. Can I get you a drink? We're still waiting for our other attendee."

"Sure. Why not?" she said, sitting down on a lounge chair.

Vincent continued to smile. Now, this was an entity he could work with. He fixed a drink for himself and one for Timma, and as he was handing hers to her, Raguel entered the cabana. He looked at the Demon Goddess with contempt. Her eyes went black for a moment, and the hands that reached out for the drink became claws. An Archangel and a Demon deity were natural enemies, of course. Their brief exchange amused Vincent. As rivals for the acquisition of the Books, they were both adversaries of his, of course. But Vincent wasn't going to let a little thing like that bother him.

It was going to be harder for him to work with Raguel, though. The Archangel had a sour look on his face, and Vincent could just bet he had the disposition to match. "I don't suppose you want a drink," Vincent said to Raguel.

"No, I don't want a drink," Raguel snapped. "I'm not even sure why I came."

"Probably because you're in the same boat as we are," Vincent said, nodding towards Ammit. "Clearly, none of us has been able to find the Books. If we had, we'd be using them right now, and the status quo would be no more. So, I'm proposing a partnership. Maybe, since there are two Books, we could arrive at some kind of compromise. We could pool our resources, and information. I'm a reasonable man. Quite frankly, I'm only really interested in the Book of the Dead. What about the two of you?"

There was silence for a moment. Ammit took a sip of her drink, and then she said, "I'm more interested in the Book of Life, to tell you the truth." Of course she was. The Book of Life could be used to judge the dead. If she had it, she would become the ultimate arbiter, rendering Death redundant. And, since she and she alone would be judging the dead, let Vincent have his little Book. That would still make her his superior.

Raguel favoured the Book of Life too, because he knew that it could be used to alter the fabric of time and reality. He wanted to change a great many things. He didn't really care if Vincent wanted to have an army of undead beings, or if Ammit thought she was going to be the new Death. Raguel had much loftier pursuits in mind. He shrugged. "Or I could just kill you both, and take the Books for myself," the Archangel said to them now.

Vincent laughed, raising his glass in salute to Raguel. "And here I thought I wasn't going to like you," he said cheerfully. "Of course you could. We could all say the same. But why don't we just avoid that tired cliche and cooperate with each other, instead? None of us has to die, and we can all get what we want. I'll go first. God is my son-in-law, and my daughter has him wrapped around her little finger. The two of them have access to an underground bunker that's got the most comprehensive library of lore in the known universe. Perhaps we can start there. I'll admit it: I simply don't have the intel I need to mount a successful search right now. How about the two of you? Raguel? I guess there's nothing in Heaven that would give us any clues? And, Ammit? Sorry; I mean, Timma? I don't suppose Crowley has any knowledge on the subject? I'm sure if he did, you would have gotten it from him by now, especially if you were looking like that at the time."

Ammit smiled, taking another sip of her drink. There had been a time when his good looks and false charm might have influenced her, but Vincent was wasting his time now. That didn't mean she couldn't play along to suit her own purposes, though. "Crowley doesn't know anything," she said scornfully. "Or at least, if he does, he doesn't KNOW he knows. Your son thinks he's far more clever than he really is."

Vincent had been taking a drink, and he sputtered for a moment. "How did you know he was my son? Even he doesn't know that," he said to her.

Ammit's smile widened. "Many people underestimate me," she said evasively. "I hope you don't disappoint me by being one of them."

Raguel cleared his throat impatiently. "Do you need me here for this conversation? What are you proposing, Vincent? Do you think that you can sell us on the fact that Castiel is your son-in-law? So what? He hates you. And as for that library of theirs, I am skeptical it could be of any real use to us. I was at the Coptic Museum in Egypt, and the curator there assured me that clues to the whereabouts of the Books could be found at the Seven Wonders of the World. But he was mistaken. They no longer exist. And I went to Heaven, just on the off chance that there was anything there. But there isn't. I'm wasting my time here. You don't have any knowledge. You are merely fishing for information." He turned on his heel and exited the cabana.

"Wait here. Please," Vincent said to Ammit. He went after Raguel. The Archangel was somewhat inexplicably standing on the beach, just a few feet away from the tent. Vincent had to restrain himself from grinning. If Raguel had really intended to leave, he would have just popped himself out of there.

"Is there something you wanted to say to me?" Vincent asked Raguel, approaching him.

"I do not necessarily object to the idea of an alliance," Raguel said stiffly, "but I refuse to share the Book of Life with her. She is the sort of - thing - that I will annihilate, once I rule Heaven."

Yeah, and so am I, Vincent thought sardonically. But just the fact that the Archangel was here talking to him suggested to Vincent that Raguel was willing to form a temporary alliance with a lowlife like him just to get what he wanted. Or maybe he would just rather deal with a man. A lot of those old-time Angels were sexist pigs, Vincent thought, totally oblivious of the hypocrisy of his thinking.

Out of the two of them, Vincent knew who he'd rather deal with, but he'd be a fool to limit his options, too. "OK, I'll tell you what," he said to Raguel. "I'll go back in there and tell her that you've agreed to the three-way alliance. Then we'll just use her for any information that she can uncover. If by any miracle she comes up with the Books, you can take one, and I'll take the other, and then we'll kill her. Or you can have the pleasure of doing it yourself, if you want; I don't care. How does that sound? Do we have a deal?"

Raguel regarded Vincent, with no discernible expression on his face. But he was inwardly disgusted by this man. Did Vincent really think that he was any better than Ammit, or Crowley, or any of their ilk? The only reason Raguel was still standing here, the ONLY reason, was because he had no idea how to proceed in his search for the Books. All of his efforts had amounted to nothing. He hated to admit it, but Vincent could have something that Raguel himself did not. If the man could manage to insinuate himself into the bunker somehow, or use Gail to do it, maybe they could obtain some useful information.

"All right, we have a deal," Raguel said in a clipped tone. "I'll be in touch." Then he vanished, without another word.

Vincent smirked. Not even a handshake. He guessed a lofty individual like Raguel wouldn't want to soil himself. But that was okay. Who the hell would want to touch a dried-up, ugly-ass sourpuss like Raguel anyway?

He went back into the cabana, and Ammit was helping herself to another drink. OK; she was really starting to grow on him now.

"Let me guess," she said calmly. "He'll make a deal with you, but not me. Because he's too good to deal with my kind. If the two of you are able to use any knowledge I might be able to impart to get your hands on those Books, you'll split them, and then kill me. Am I right?"

Vincent nodded. "Impressive. Beauty, and intelligence. The entire package."

She took a sip of her fresh drink. "And now you're going to tell me that it's actually you and I who are going to form a partnership, and WE'LL be using HIM." She smiled. "But, what you're really thinking is that you'll use us both, take the Books for yourself, and pit us against each other."

"Wow, you're good," Vincent said softly. "I'd better not screw around with you."

"Still, there's no reason we can't come to some sort of arrangement," Ammit said, shrugging. "I worked for your son for quite a few years. He may be a lot of things, but his ability to deal is second to none. I learned a lot under his tutelage."

"Tutelage? Now, there's a euphemism for it I haven't heard before," Vincent quipped.

Ammit shrugged. "That's the problem, dealing with Angels. They're all so...righteous. There's no reason you can't have a little pleasure, along with doing business."

"Now you're talking my language," Vincent said, grinning.

Ammit finished her drink, setting the glass down on the bar. She approached Vincent, reaching up to unbutton his shirt. "I've never been with both a son and his father, before," she purred.

"And I've never had a Demon Goddess before," Vincent said, sliding her cover-up off her shoulders.

"Well then, those will be items that we can check off our 'bucket lists'," Ammit responded, tugging at the belt of his pants. "That's a charming little slang phrase I've picked up here on Earth. It means - "

"I know what it means," Vincent said, both amused and annoyed at the same time. He untied the strings on her bikini and she stood before him, gloriously naked. It was just a shell, of course, but it was a hell of an aesthetically pleasing one.

Ammit waved her hands over Vincent, and now he was naked, too. He grinned again. No muss, no fuss. He really liked this one. Killing her was going to be a real shame.

There was a bed in the cabana, of course. Vincent arranged to have a bed everywhere he went, because, you never knew. As it was, he was contemplating starting the replacement of the kids he'd lost. But right now, despite that temporary setback at the compound, he was feeling better than ever. And he was about to improve on that status. He brought her over to the bed now, and as they stood beside it, Vincent leaned down to kiss her.

"Who do you think you're fooling?" Ammit said, averting her face. "I'm not one of your humans. Let's not pretend this is anything other than what it is." She got on the bed, positioning herself on all fours. "Let's go, Vincent."

He grinned again.

Laurel had been straightening up Cas's desk when she found it: the thin file that was in the pile on the corner of his desk, sandwiched in-between Seraphims and Shadrach.

She pulled it out. The file was red in colour, denoting that it belonged with the other Highly Classified files. This shouldn't be sitting out here, in the open. When Patricia had been God, she'd had everything locked up tight as a drum, but Cas didn't believe in such things. When he was here, his door was always open, and when he was not, no one got past Laurel. But Cas didn't know the difference between a regular file and a red file. He had never asked to see the red files, presumably because he had no interest in them. And quite frankly, he should already know what was in them, or so Laurel believed. He was God, wasn't he?

So she eased the red file out from the pile, glancing at the label out of curiosity. Seven Wonders Of The World. Huh. It was a very thin file. Maybe God had written down a list of the Wonders as He had made them, just for posterity. But she had no idea why that information should be considered Classified. The original Seven Wonders were a well-documented part of the world's history. But, history was all they were now. As far as she knew, none of them existed any more.

She locked the file away in the box with the others, and then she exited the Office.

Vincent pushed Ammit's head down onto the bed, gripping her hip with the other. After she had presented herself to him that way, he'd figured that was her position of choice, and he was only too happy to oblige. He was pounding into her, and she was exhorting him, telling him he could go as hard and as rough as he wanted. Vincent was enjoying himself. When he slept with human women, most of them wanted to be romanced. There was a natural buildup to these things, and he was expected to follow protocol. He'd always found that they were more fertile when he was ardent, but gentle.

But what he and Ammit were doing right now, and the way they were doing it, was strictly for recreation, not procreation. And that was just fine with him. Beings like the two of them had no interest in finesse, or fake romance. It was such a relief not to have to act like he cared. He grabbed her hair and yanked on it, roaring out loud as he did so. His true face started to emerge, and Ammit's head morphed into its natural state as he howled. Vincent noted with amusement that her hands had changed into claws, and her head was the head of a dog, although she retained her pleasing female figure. Well, considering the way that they were having sex right now, he supposed that was entirely apropos. The fact that she looked like that didn't faze him at all. He'd certainly been with worse.

There was one curious thing, though: she had the letters "REV" embossed on the back of her neck. Was it a tattoo that the bimbo whose vessel she had borrowed had put there, or did it belong to Ammit herself? Vincent had some vague knowledge of Demon curses. He was aware that once one had been put on you, it followed you from vessel to vessel, whether you liked it or not.

It hadn't occurred to her that he would notice the letters on her neck, but even if it had, Ammit wouldn't have cared. It wasn't as if she was seducing an Angel here, or anyone who might know the significance of the letters. But, she was giving herself to Vincent like this for a reason. Once she and a man were coupled in this way, she could access his mind, if she chose. Vincent was more shielded than most, but when she'd lowered his inhibitions by encouraging him to be his true self, his guard had weakened, allowing her to slip in for a moment.

He'd been telling the truth when he had said that he had no idea where the Books were, but he was all bluster when it came to the perceived significance of his familial bond with Gail and Castiel. They were never going to get anywhere that way. But the notion of a library full of lore piqued her interest, and Ammit could see through Vincent's mind's eye that there was a fairly large group that considered themselves family or close friends of the Angel couple. Even if Vincent could not seem to work out how to use that to his advantage, Ammit was certain that she could.

"Are you all right, Valerie?" Aurielle asked her friend. She reached across the table and put her hand on top of Valerie's. "You look really tired."

"It's no big deal," Valerie replied automatically. She'd had years of conditioning when it came to defecting questions like that. Why do you have a black eye? Oh; I walked into a door. Why is your body all bruised like that? I fell down a flight of stairs. Can you believe how clumsy I am?

Aurora was sweet, and such a good friend. But how could Valerie tell her what was really going on? Who the hell would ever believe her if she told them that she was being haunted by the ghost of her ex-husband?

Jody had just changed Angela's diaper and now she was putting a sleeper on her daughter, preparing to put her down for her nap. She bent down and kissed the baby's tummy, then blew a raspberry on the little girl's soft skin. Angela laughed, flailing her chubby limbs.

Were babies as young as Angela supposed to be as bright as she apparently was? Ever since Frank and Jody's baby had learned her first few one-syllable names, her vocabulary had expanded a little. It wasn't as if the kid was forming complete sentences or anything, but she had astonished her parents a couple of times recently when she'd been put to bed and said a word which sounded an awful lot like "crib". Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on their part.

Jody sighed. She wished that Eric hadn't left so abruptly. It was obvious to her that the boy had been conflicted from the word "go", though. Rob had told them what Eric did for a living down in Florida, and Jody had been a cop. She'd been hoping that, given time, they could dissuade Eric from resuming his lifestyle, but they hadn't been given much of a chance. Rob had been a troubled young man also, with at least as many beefs with life as Eric had. But, with patience and love, he had come around. It didn't seem as if Eric had any kind of family support. He and his mother were estranged, and it sounded as if the woman had preached to the young man more than she had talked to him. That was probably why Eric had gotten so upset when Cas had talked to him the way he had.

Still, Eric was of legal age, and they couldn't force him to stay here if he didn't want to. Jody made a mental note to herself to make a couple of calls to a couple of contacts in Florida. Maybe she could have one of them keep an eye out, just to make sure he was safe.

She put Angela in the crib, giving her daughter one more kiss. But then, as Jody straightened up, she felt a momentary sharp pain in her head. "Ow," she remarked out loud. She'd probably just moved too fast. Wasn't middle age great? You'd walk into a room and then look around, totally forgetting what the hell you'd come in there for. When you sat down, more often than not you made an "oof" sound, without even being aware that you were doing it. And sometimes, when you straightened up too quickly, your head swam.

Jody left the nursery, closing the door quietly behind her.

Now it was Crowley's turn to be gob smacked. "VINCENT was our father? The same Vincent who killed Frank's parents?" he asked Cas sharply.

"Yes," Cas responded matter-of-factly. "It was he who stepped out of the shadows and took Gail, leaving you with Rowena."

"How did you know that he killed Frank's parents?" Gail asked the King. "You weren't there that day. I would have remembered that."

"You're quite right, but my underlings described him to me, and I put two and two together," Crowley replied, rather evasively.

Gail let out a frustrated breath. "You know, it's really too bad we didn't have any protections on our house when I was growing up. Apparently, that place was an open house for evil bastards. I know that you were there, too, when I was a baby. Oh, and let's not forget about Abigail. Maybe Hitler and Charles Manson came over for Sunday dinner. No wonder the place is still up for sale."

Crowley was lost in thought now. He supposed this new information changed nothing, but it had certainly thrown him for a loop. Why would Vincent have stolen Gail from Rowena when she'd been just a baby, given the modern incarnation of his daughter to a Hunter, and then killed that Hunter and his wife before the girl had even reached puberty? And then, there was the curious fact that Crowley himself had made a deal for those souls ten years prior to that very same day. Either Vincent knew a lot of things about a lot of things, or it was just one hell of a coincidence.

Who WAS Vincent, anyway? What did he look like, and what was his game? Crowley was unaccustomed to being so out of the loop about something, especially something that concerned him directly.

"Tell me everything you know about this man," Crowley said to the Angels.

Gail laughed scornfully. "Sorry. One favour per customer, and right now, I have a witch to find. I don't feel like dying again, not so soon after that last time. It's too bad, though. After what Vincent just put me and Cas through, I'd watch my back, if I were you." Gail snapped her fingers, looking at Cas. Hopefully, he was picking up on her thoughts now. This could be just the break they needed. "You know what?" Gail continued. "That's probably why he wants the Book of the Dead so badly. If he gets it, he and his undead army could probably storm into Hell, couldn't they?"

Cas was getting it now. "Yes, of course they could. And right before he left, didn't he say that he was going to have a summit meeting with Ammit and Raguel to discuss an alliance? As the expression goes, that can only be good for you, Crowley. Isn't that right?"

"Too bad you've alienated everyone who might have stood with you against them," Gail added, shrugging. "Maybe we'll just form an alliance with Rowena, then."

"You would still need to bring me those codices in order to fulfill the terms of the favour," Crowley pointed out.

"Then I'll just wave my hand the moment you take receipt of them, and they will disintegrate," Cas said coolly. "The curse will be removed, and you will end up with nothing but a lot of highly motivated enemies."

"You would never do that," the King said to his brother. "Destroy the Word of God? I don't believe you."

"To stop YOU from having it? Try me," Cas said. He had been nearing Crowley this whole time, and now he was inches apart from the King, facing him down. "You know how much Gail means to me, or at least you should, by now. We have defied death numerous times to be with one another, and we have defied you and won, every single time. Do you really think that I am going to choose some old, yellow scraps of parchment over my wife? Try me, Crowley. Just try me."

The men looked each other in the eyes for what felt like an eternity, and then finally, Crowley snapped his fingers, and the pain was gone. Gail reflexively reached up to touch the spot, but now she could feel a few bumps there, almost as if she were trying to read Braille.

"It's still there, and now I can feel some bumps, too," she remarked, puzzled.

"Of course it's still there," Crowley said impatiently. "What do you take me for? The favour may be dismissed, but the mark is still my protection against the many men in your life who will come gunning for me in the future. Especially your new husband, whoever that may turn out to be. So you see, there are very few things I don't know about. I'll be expecting my invitation to the nuptials in the mail." Then he vanished.

But, Crowley had been lying his Demonic face off. Now that he had forgiven the favour, the mark was completely ineffective as an assassin repellant. But they didn't have to know that, of course. Self-preservation was Crowley's top priority, and even though most of Gail's friends and potential husbands were of no real threat to him, Gabriel was going to be one of the seven, the King was sure. And soon, Castiel would have a lot more time on his hands without his wife constantly by his side, and he would be even more on edge once he had to do without his marital relations. Crowley would find that extremely amusing, were it not for the potentially deadly consequences to himself.

Why had he forgiven the favour? Was it because the two of them had made a fairly convincing argument about alliances? Or had there been more to it than that? Crowley told himself it was the former, but in reality, it had probably been the latter. And now, he'd been given a lot more to worry about than a few codices.

Gail let out a breath as Cas rushed over to her. He parted her hair in the back and, sure enough, the mark was still there. But it was no longer glowing, and when he asked her, she told him it no longer hurt.

So they had dodged that particular bullet for the time being, but the two of them looked at each other now, their heads still reeling from what they had just learned. Cas took her hands in his and winked them to their suite in Heaven. He smiled grimly. "I just wanted to get us as far away from him as possible."

Gail dropped his hands and started to pace the floor, turning her back to him. "I probably shouldn't even be here," she said, gesturing in frustration. "Considering my family tree, I'm surprised I didn't burn up on re-entry." She wheeled around and looked at him. "I don't even know what to say any more. Just when we thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, now I find this out. Rowena is my mother? Crowley is my brother? What the hell, Cas? What kind of stupid-ass life is this, anyway? Are you absolutely sure he was showing you the truth?"

"I saw it for myself," Cas said, distressed. "Unfortunately, it is true."

"The King of Hell is my brother," Gail said with disgust. "Great. Just great. I don't even know what to do with that."

"Welcome to the club," Cas stated. His lips twitched. "I have been in that very same position since the Dawn of Time. It actually makes me feel even closer to you, now."

She looked at him. "Oh, no. You're not going to get me that easily," she admonished him. "It's not funny, Cas."

"No, of course it isn't," he said earnestly. "It's not funny at all. It's terrible."

"I could have happily gone the rest of my existence without finding that out," she lamented. "Why did he have to tell me that?"

"Because he's an ass," Cas said, approaching her. "Because he is a disgusting individual, with no regard for people's feelings." He put his arms around her waist.

"Yeah. And who took that favour back, for no apparent reason," she pointed out.

"I suppose we were very persuasive," Cas said uneasily.

"Our argument was lame," she responded. "You know it, and I know it. Not that I'm not grateful, but there was really no good reason for him to have deactivated that curse, Cas."

The two of them were quiet for a moment, and then Cas said, "Have you picked the seven suitors yet?"

Gail frowned. "I really don't want to do that, Cas. Do I have to do that?" He didn't answer her, just tightened his arms around her. She sighed. "Fine. Let's see: Gabriel, Sam, Dean, Kevin, Riley, Chuck, and Efram. There. Whatever."

"I'm sorry you have to go through this, my love," Cas said softly.

"Oh, well. At least the guy'll be a friend of ours," she said with a half-shrug.

"Once Christmas is over and we formally dissolve our marriage, we'll have them all pick the stones. Then we will hold a civil ceremony," Cas said stiffly, trying to remain stoic about it for Gail's sake. "You and I will be prohibited from any intimate contact during your marriage, including kissing, or holding hands."

Wow. Not even holding hands, Gail thought resentfully. This was going to kill her. This was going to kill HIM.

"But, the six-month period will be over before we know it," Cas continued, keeping his tone light for her. "And then, once your marriage is annulled, you will be the recipient of so much romance..."

"How much?" Gail asked him softly, stretching up to kiss him gently on his lightly stubbled chin. He almost always shaved close for Gail's benefit, but no matter how often he did so, a slight dusting of stubble seemed to be a permanent thing for him.

"So much," he said, smiling. He kissed her on the mouth. "Infinite amounts." He kissed her again. "And, if I am lucky enough to be able to convince you to remarry me at the end of our courtship, I will take you on the most romantic honeymoon you could ever imagine. We'll go wherever you want to go, and do whatever you want to do." He kissed her once more, and this time, he used his tongue. Gail opened her mouth to him immediately. Boy, oh boy, did she ever know what she would want to do. After six months of not even being able to hold Cas's hand, it wouldn't really matter where they went on their honeymoon. It wasn't like they'd be seeing much of the outside world, anyway.

But then, she checked herself. It was just the idea of not being able to do something that made you want to do it even more. The idea that she and Cas would be prohibited from being romantic with each other was already driving her nuts, and the six months hadn't even started yet.

"Could you do me a favour, Cas?" she said to her husband.

"Anything, my love," he replied.

"Could you tell me you love me?" Gail asked him. "And can you keep on telling me that, even during those six months?"

"I'll keep on telling you that for the rest of our existence," Cas told her, kissing her again.

"You have a visitor," the orderly said to his patient.

Andy looked up sharply. A visitor? He hadn't had a visitor in - come to think of it, he didn't think he'd ever had a visitor. Nobody visited crazy people who'd been locked away for decades. Andy had no friends, and the only family member he had left was...

"What does he look like?" Andy said warily.

"It's a she," the orderly said. "Now, put on your robe, and give your hair a comb, while you're at it. She's a nice-looking young woman."

A young woman? Now Andy was truly puzzled. He couldn't think of anyone who that could possibly be. His curiosity got the better of him. He eased himself off the bed and put his robe on.

So this was Vincent's brother, Abigail thought, as Andy shuffled into the room. He hadn't bothered to get dressed, but he had washed his face and rearranged his bushy white hair. He looked at her, wrinkling his forehead.

"Hi, Andy. I'm Abigail," she introduced herself, but she did not stand up, or move to shake his hand. She'd been given to understand that Vincent's brother had violent tendencies, and she didn't want to take any chances. Especially considering the subject she had come to talk to him about.

"I'm going to be sitting right outside, so make sure you behave yourself," the orderly said to Andy sternly. Then he looked at Abigail. "I know he's your brother-in-law, but if you feel threatened, don't hesitate to call, OK?"

"Yes. Thank you," Abigail responded. Andy sat down across the table from her, and as soon as the orderly left the room, Andy turned to look at the woman. "Brother-in-law?" he said, eyeing the woman suspiciously. "You're not Cathy."

"No, I'm not. I told you, my name is Abigail," she stated. "I'm Vincent's wife."

Andy's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Do you expect me to believe that?"

Abigail let out a frustrated breath. "Fine. I'm not his wife. I just told them I was, so they would let me in to see you."

"Why would you want to see me?" he asked her.

"Because I'm going to need your help," she said earnestly. "There will be a group of people coming here to see you, one of which is my daughter, Gail. You're going to help them find the Book of the Dead, before Vincent does."

"Lady, I have no idea who you are or what you want from me," Andy said, his voice rising. "But I haven't had anything to do with my brother in years, and if you're smart, neither will you. I know he likes young women, but you've still got years and years of your life ahead of you. Don't waste them on Vincent. And I don't know what your daughter would have to do with anything, but they're not gonna let a baby in here. Do you know what kind of people they keep here?"

Incredibly, Abigail laughed. "Don't be fooled, Andy. I'm the same age as all of you are. In fact, I'm older than you."

Then it dawned on Andy what was going on here. "This daughter of yours? Gail? She's one of Vincent's special kids, isn't she?"

Abigail smirked. "Oh, she's special, all right. You have no idea."

Andy sighed. "All right, I'll bite: What's this Book of the Dead everybody seems so interested in?"

Abigail looked at him sharply. "'Everybody'?" she echoed.

Andy squirmed in his chair. "Vincent and I must have a psychic link, or something. I see the things he wants me to see, and I can hear his voice in my head, when he feels like talking to me. I saw him with a beautiful blonde girl and a thin man with an unpleasant look on his face, and they were talking about the Book of the Dead, and something called the Book of Life, too. Why don't you want him to have it?"

"Think about it," Abigail said sarcastically. "Vincent, and something called the Book of the Dead? What do you think? It'll mean the end of us all, Andy. I've seen into the future. There are many different ways this thing could go, but almost all of them end disastrously. If he gets a hold of that Book, we're done."

Andy sighed, looking at the floor. "Maybe that would be just as well," he said sadly. Then he looked up at her. "Are you happy, Abigail?"

"What?" she asked him, startled.

"You heard me. Are you happy? Because I'm not. I never have been. Anyone who has the bad luck to get mixed up with Vincent is done. We might as well not even bother. You know he always gets his way, don't you?"

"No!" Abigail exclaimed. "No! He doesn't have to! Somebody's got to finally put their foot down, and say enough's enough!"

Suddenly, the door opened, and the orderly stuck his head in. "Is everything OK in here?" he asked the two of them.

"It's fine," Andy said calmly. "Just a bit of a family dispute, that's all. Right, Sis?"

"Right," Abigail answered promptly.

After a moment, the orderly closed the door again, and Abigail looked at Andy, her expression furious now. "Look, 'brother'," she hissed. "I've tried to be reasonable about this. But you're going to help me, one way or the other. Maybe you're tired of living, but I'm not. So you're going to do as I say, or you'll regret it. You have no idea what's at stake here, and you have no idea of the types of individuals who are involved in this thing. Archangels, Demons, Voodoo Priests and Priestesses, God, Hunters, and witches. To name just a few."

Andy stared at her. "And they locked ME up for being crazy," he remarked, dazed.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Abigail said, tight-lipped. "Don't pretend like you don't."

And the hell of it was, he did. He knew more than he'd wanted to let on. Why couldn't they all just leave him alone, to rot here in peace? It was bad enough that he had Vincent's voice in his head, telling him that he was crazy. Now, he had this woman here, telling him that he was supposed to help her and Vincent's daughter defy his brother? SHE was the crazy one. All her talk about Angels, Demons, God and voodoo meant nothing to Andy. Yes, he knew that everything she was saying was true. But she had no idea that Vincent was scarier and more powerful than any of those. Oliver was dead. Cathy was dead. So were Andy's parents. Didn't this Abigail woman know how dangerous Vincent was?

Her hand shot out suddenly, touching Andy's arm. "You're going to help them, because you know it's the right thing to do," Abigail said through gritted teeth.

"If you think so, why don't YOU help them?" Andy said tartly.

"Because YOU'RE going to," Abigail retorted. "Because I might have burned a couple of bridges, there. And because, I guess a part of me might actually have feelings for her. But she can never know I came to see you here, and neither can Vincent, or he'll let me wither up and die. And I have no intention of dying, Andy. I'm not helping the Angels out of the goodness of my heart. I'm helping them because Vincent's vision of the world is unacceptable to me. Maybe, just maybe, they'll be able to kill him. And if they do, they'll set me free. They'll set all of us free. Now doesn't that sound good?"

It did. Andy had to admit that it did. "If I decide to help, what would you want me to do?" he asked Abigail, and she leaned forward to tell him.

JD was sitting with his feet up on the bed, channel-surfing. These motel rooms were all the same. Porn, second-tier movies, local news. Once in a while, though, he would stumble upon an old CSI, or a horror movie, and he'd settle down and watch it, just to see how the bad guy operated. It was really entertaining, most of the time. Instructive, too. He'd never been caught before, but neither had any of them, until they were.

"What do you want to watch?" he said to the girl who was lying beside him. But she had no reply to make, because she was very, very dead.

"What's that? You don't have a preference? Okay, Junebug. We'll just watch the news, then, so I can find out how much longer our relationship is going to last," JD said good-naturedly. He put his arm around the corpse, cuddling it. "If the cops have any good leads, we might have to break up." Then he laughed, in that funny sounding half-giggle that his father had perfected. Not that JD would know anything about that, of course. He'd never met Vincent before in his life.

But the news wasn't good. Not only had they identified the girl he was laying there with as being missing, but there was a police sketch of a man who the reporter said was last seen with her, and the sketch looked just enough like JD to concern him. He reached for the remote, and clicked the TV off. Then he rolled over on his side and pulled the unfortunate young woman's body to him for an embrace. He pressed her head into his chest, so he wouldn't have to look at her wide, surprised-looking eyes, and the dark bruising on her neck. "I only wanted you to love me," JD said to her. "Why doesn't anybody love me?"

But his question was met with only silence, as it always was. Oh, well. One day, JD would find someone to give him the love that he craved. One day he would belong to someone, and that someone would belong only to him.

But in the meantime, he'd better get some rest. He had a grave to dig in the morning.

Leah had finally started the quilt square that was going to depict the killing of one of the triad. But it was going to take her a little while to accomplish.

For one thing, her hands were a misery. As part of her reward for taking care of His original Son at birth, God had allowed Leah to retain her same vessel all of these years. And even though she was an Angel, she still felt the miseries of arthritis in her hands whenever the Christmas season came around. Whether there was some kind of ironic message the Father was trying to convey by letting one of His Exalted feel such pain was unclear; all Leah knew was that He had picked a bad time to give her the nudge to start the square.

But start it she would, and she would try to struggle through the pain, for Castiel. Leah's current Lord was going to need all the help he could get, and he was going to have to start out the New Year broken-hearted to boot, because Castiel's wife was going to be another man's wife at the beginning of it. It had to be done, of course, but that didn't mean it would be easy on any of them.

Gail was largely unaware of it, but Leah and most of the others at the Seniors' Centre actually thought quite a lot of her. So did the teachers at the school, which was a relatively new innovation of the current administration's. Many longer-serving Angels had raised their eyebrows and clucked their tongues over having a school and a ball diamond in Heaven, but Leah thought it was marvellous. The fact that so many of the Angels were children had been Heaven's dirty little secret for a long time, much like the Angels on Leah's end of the age spectrum. The fact was, children died, too. They died all the time. And where did people think they went? Jupiter? Poughkeepsie? No. Children came here too, either with their families or without, and Leah thought it was wonderful that Angels like Liz and Gail had been brave enough to finally acknowledge that fact, and to do something about it. Even the Heavenly Hostesses had started to come around, as far as Gail went. For a little too long, those women had been reluctant to admit that they had backed the wrong horse in Patricia, and that modern didn't automatically equal bad. It had taken Leah a while to become accustomed to God walking in here wearing jeans and holding a woman's hand in public, too. But these were no longer ancient times. Soon there would be a lot more for them all to be concerned with than the Almighty's wardrobe, or his love life.

She bent her head to the quilt again, as the season's first flakes of snow started to fall on Earth.

\- END OF BOOK 34. -


End file.
